Daggers Through the Heart
by Jennaya
Summary: A rescued French scientist turns Hogan's world upside down, when he turns out to be married to Tiger.
1. Chapter 1

**.**

* * *

><p><strong>Daggers Through the Heart<strong>

**By**

**Jennaya**

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of CBS and Ryscher Entertainment. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.<p>

Authors note: This is a bit darker of a story than I usually write. Thought I'd try something new.

* * *

><p>Hogan pushed the French scientist into a doorway out of the main hall as bullets filled the corridor. Firing his weapon towards the onslaught of SS soldiers, he glanced to see Carter across the hall taking refuge in a small alcove. He jumped back as a bullet slammed into the wall, shards of plaster exploding next to his head, a mere inch from Hogan never breathing again.<p>

"Sir," Carter whispered loudly getting Hogan's attention as he produced a hand grenade out of his pocket, pulling the pin, then loping it down the hall. Instantly Carter turned facing the wall as Hogan shoved the scientist against the door covering him with his own body. As the grenade exploded, screams could be heard down the hall, instantly the bombardment of bullets stopped.

Hogan couldn't be concerned for the welfare of enemy soldiers determined to kill the trio as he detangled himself from the scientist pointing him in the direction to go. His only thoughts were getting them all out safely, "Carter, you okay?"

"Yes, sir," he answered shaking his head from the sound of the explosion, following behind the Colonel making sure no one was shooting at them.

When they made it to the main passageway, Hogan moved forward, his senses on high alert. Instinct made him fire his rifle down the clearing, although he didn't see any soldiers. Then the unmistakable sound of men hit by bullets with a universal cry of pain pierced the night air. Warily he fired again and a body fell into the hall. Satisfied it was safe he continued at point, sandwiching the rescued scientist between him and Carter. Carter fired down the hallway behind them deterring any followers. As they made it to the front door, Hogan thought a shadow moved. Uncertain but determined to make it out alive; he fired in the direction of the shadow which fired back at him. Once again, he pulled the trigger letting multiple rounds leave the gun. Watching as the shadow became a man falling in front of the door; his eyes filled with terror, his body riddled with lead. A rasping cough was the last sound made by the man as Hogan climbed over the body, shoving him out of the way, ushering the others out to safety. When outside, Carter tossed another hand grenade down the hall they'd just exited dissuading followers at least temporarily.

The trio ran through the compound watching for combatants putting as much distance between them and the SS as possible. Prior to entering the building on their rescue mission, Hogan and Carter had taken care of the two outside sentinels, although replacements would soon be pouring out of the structure. Hogan drug the scientist along fearing, if he didn't start moving faster, the man would get them all killed. Hearing voices, his head jerked in the direction from which they came. Three men were making it to the machine gun turret, but they'd soon learn it had been permanently disabled. Bullets once again whizzed by some hitting mere feet from them as they continued to run. The scientist stumbling fell just before they made it to the bridge of safety. Hogan reached down grabbing him by the back of his coat collar pulling him up pushing him forward.

"Light it up," Hogan yelled as he helped the scientist across the bridge.

Carter fumbled for the matches out of his uniform pocket. Finding them, he dropped to the ground on the far side of the bridge. Holding the burning match to the rest of the pack, it lit up like a torch then he put the entire burning contents on the explosives wire watching as it started to burn. "Fifteen seconds," he yelled out running to catch up with Hogan and the scientist. "Five, four, three," he counted out as they all fell to the ground covering their heads with their hands. The force of the explosion from the bridge rocked the earth beneath them.

Angry, confused voices could be heard in the distance, unsure how long that would delay their pursuers, Hogan ordered them to move on. The scientist ran in the direction in which he was pointed stopping just short of the wall of earth built up around the ravine. "Climb! Our car is on the other side," Hogan shouted. The scientist did as he was told climbing up using his hands and knees to make it to the top, then disappeared down the ravine. As Hogan reached the top of the ravine, a piecing cry all to close made Hogan stop turning around as his heart sunk. Carter lay face down on the ground with bullets flying all around. Hogan shot back in short burst in the direction the offending fire came from running to his downed man. "Carter!" A moan answered him as he turned the young man over, blood pouring out of his upper left thigh. Hogan tore a part of the uniform off tying it around Carter's leg. "Can you walk?"

"I think so," Carter hissed out. Hogan placed an arm under the young man helping him to his feet. Carter fell before taking a step. "Go, get out of here. Just leave me."

"Get to your feet soldier, that's an order!" Hogan shifted more of Carter's weight onto himself making the slow journey up the side of the gorge. As they made it to the top, Hogan felt the sting of a bullet bite his shoulder. Trying desperately to stop their tumble, unfortunately there was nothing to grab onto; they rolled down the ravine finally coming to a stop at the bottom.

"Mon Colonel! Carter!" LeBeau cried as they came to a stop rushing over to the men.

"Watch out for Krauts, and let's get out of here." Hogan ordered as he picked Carter up carrying him to the car with LeBeau following close on his heels. The scientist was already in the front seat when Hogan put Carter in the back seat. "Drive!"

LeBeau didn't have to be told twice as he put the car in gear and took off down the road in a preplanned escape route that wouldn't lead any followers directly back to Stalag 13. "How bad is he?"

"Losing a lot of blood. Carter, can you hear me?" Hogan tried to keep him conscious but it was a losing battle. "I need something to tie around his leg to the stop the bleeding."

"Give him your scarf," LeBeau ordered the scientist pointing to the fabric, afraid if he turned around and looked at Carter again, he'd pass out.

François Barrett, the scientist, looked at LeBeau uncomprehending for a moment then snapped out of it. "Oui." He handed it back to Hogan who tied it tightly around Carter's leg.

"What happened in there? Why so much gunfire?" LeBeau asked maneuvering around a corner at high speed.

"I don't know; we ran into more resistance than expected. Carter, stay with me!" Hogan demanded, worry filling his voice. He slapped the sergeant's face not getting much of a response as he kept pressure on the leg, the blood flow slowing. The moments seemed like hours until they arrived as close as possible to the emergency tunnel entrance. "LeBeau, explain to him in French what we need him to do," he ordered pointing to the scientist as he picked Carter up carrying him to the entrance.

As they approached the tree trunk entrance, it opened a fraction of a second after the searchlight flooded the area with Newkirk's head popping out. "What happened?" He carefully took Carter from Hogan carrying him below, where Kinch aided in getting both men down the ladder.

"Unfortunately he was shot rescuing me," François answered climbing down into the tunnel looking around with wide eyes. Newkirk and Kinch were already carrying the unconscious Carter to the infirmary. The others following close behind once the entrance was secured.

Arriving at the tunnel infirmary, they gently laid him down on the table with Wilson cutting open the German uniform pants Carter wore instantly. "He's lost too much blood. Someone look at his dog tags and get blood donors," Wilson ordered not looking up from his patient. Kinch ran to the radio room, grabbed Carter's dog tags out of the box, and took off upstairs in search of volunteers.

"Why is there so much blood?" Wilson questioned aloud digging into Carter's leg. "I need more light!" LeBeau took off in search of flashlights returning with an armload. He handed two to each man who held the lights up allowing Wilson to see the wound better. "I need another medic down here."

"I'll get Anderson," LeBeau answered, unsure how he'd been able to be around that much blood and not pass out yet. A few more seconds and he'd be on the floor not useful to anyone.

Kinch and three others came running into the infirmary, all four blood matches for their injured comrade. Corporal Dunning rolled up his sleeve as he lay down, while Newkirk hooked him up starting the blood donor process. Wilson continued to work on the young sergeant. "Will he live?" Newkirk asked, fear in his voice.

"Was his femoral artery hit?" Hogan asked while holding up a flashlight making sure the others kept their beams where needed.

"Will he live?" Newkirk asked again, insisting upon an answer.

Wilson replied looking up at both men, "I don't know."


	2. Chapter 2

Both medics, Wilson and Anderson, continued to work on Carter for over an hour before they stepped back with a wearied sigh.

"How is he?" Hogan asked laying his flashlight down then rubbing his injured shoulder.

"He's critical. The bullet nicked a major vein, but fortunately not the femoral artery. If that had happened, he wouldn't have made it back alive. At this point, I don't know if he'll make it or not. That's up to Carter, sir," Wilson answered wiping his hands.

"Could we not take him to the hospital in town? He's wearing a German uniform," Francois asked. He'd refused to leave the infirmary out of concern for Carter holding two flashlights so the medics had ample lighting.

"Non, it would not be possible because he's really a prisoner," LeBeau answered sharply from the back of the infirmary.

"Is there anything that would help?" Hogan asked, not masking his worry.

"If London would make an airdrop of supplies tonight, it would dramatically improve his chances. I know we need to move Carter upstairs, but it has to be done very delicately and I want to wait a few hours giving him a chance to stabilize. We can't chance reopening the vein or we'll lose him," Wilson answered his trained eye looking over Hogan closely.

"Make a list of everything needed and Kinch will contact London. It's early enough we can still get an airdrop," Hogan said looking at his watch. It was only 2100 hours.

"Yes sir, after I take look at your shoulder, I'll write up a list," Wilson requested in such a way that didn't allow Hogan to protest, much.

"It's just a scratch and Carter is our main concern," Hogan insisted.

"Sir, it's going to be a very long night and I don't want to fight you on this, so I'll be the judge of how bad it is," Wilson replied leading Hogan over to a cot against the wall. Hogan reluctantly took a seat and grimaced as Wilson helped him out of the German uniform jacket and shirt. The medic cut the undershirt cloth away from the wound on the top of Hogan's shoulder a few inches from his neck, some of the cloth sticking to the dried blood as he pulled the fabric away, causing it start bleeding again. Using fresh water, he began cleaning the area until he could get a good look at it. "Fortunately, this time it is not too bad. However, there's no way to sew it up," Wilson stated as he put sulfur powder on it then placed a bandage over the injury. "I can give you some aspirin for the pain."

"It's not bad, save the medication," Hogan replied gingerly putting his arm in the sling Anderson was helping him with, as much as he didn't want to admit it the sling did help.

Wilson wrote out a list of needed supplies handing it to Kinch. "Do you think we'll have any trouble getting the medications like we did last time?"

"I don't know. Depends on what type of mood London is in tonight," Hogan replied shaking his head. He started to get up, but felt a hand on his good shoulder.

"Rest for a while, sir, you need it. I don't need you passing out from your own blood loss," Anderson ordered. Hogan reluctantly stayed seated, although Anderson would have preferred him to lie down.

"Hopefully they're in a jolly good mood," Newkirk responded tersely.

"What does that mean?" François asked.

"Sometimes we're not a top priority for them. In their defense, I know they have more to worry about than the health of the men in this camp, but it's my primary concern. However, if you were the injured one, London would do everything possible to get us the needed supplies. It's a double standard we have to deal with," Wilson answered.

"That hardly seems fair," François replied, shocked.

"Not many things are fair in war," LeBeau said. "The last time Newkirk was injured pretty badly, London refused to help. We were on our own."

François paced the length of the infirmary then turned speaking to Kinch. "Sergeant, tell Allied Command that my coming to London to give them the newest rocket technologies the Germans are working on is predicated on this young man receiving every item on that list so he lives. If they don't make that airdrop quickly, then I will take my chances and go back to France. Remind them I carry the newest information on rockets that will start hitting England in the next few weeks. The rockets have an Achilles heel that only I know how to implement. I made sure they were designed that way."

Kinch looked at Hogan for approval, Hogan nodded his head. "Yes, sir, I'll make sure they understand."

"I'll come with you in case there's any flak," Hogan said.

"No, Colonel, you've done enough tonight. As the medic says, you need to rest. I'll speak with London and ensure they see it my way. You and your man put your lives on the line to save me, so it's the least I can do," François passionately answered.

"Thank you, but just in case I should be there. Kinch, we need London to understand that if we lose Carter, we'll be out of the sabotage business," Hogan replied standing up slowly. His adrenaline had worn off and he was beginning to feel everything that happened tonight. Between the bullet graze to his shoulder and the tumble down the ravine had left him with bruises and aches he didn't want Wilson worrying about; Carter had to remain the medic's only focus. He would be sore for a while, but it wasn't anything he hadn't felt before.

The trio went to the radio room, Hogan and François waited while Kinch contacted London. With a little persuasion from Hogan, they agreed to the immediate airdrop. Due to unforeseen circumstances, it would be a week before the submarine could pick up François, and they'd need to keep him until arrangements could be finalized.

"Well it looks like you're going to be with us for a while. We'll make you as comfortable as we can," Hogan said as the radio was disconnected.

"Don't worry about me Colonel, you'll find that I don't require much. I'm just grateful for no longer being in the hands of the SS. And that your man will receive the supplies he needs," François added quickly.

"Sir, I'll go out with Newkirk to get the drop," Kinch said as he secured the radio and lowered the antenna.

"No, you gave blood so I'll send Olsen out with Newkirk. Would you go wake him up and tell him what we need? We'll let Wilson know the news," Hogan ordered walking back to the infirmary. Kinch nodded his head yes and went upstairs disappointed he wasn't going out. But if Carter needed more blood, he'd be first in line.

"That's good news sir, Carter is holding his own right now. I gave him something to ensure he stays asleep, until we get him upstairs. But what concerns me is we need to figure out a way to get him upstairs flat. I don't want to bend his leg at all not even at the groin. Do you have any ideals how?" Wilson asked.

Hogan tried to wrap his arms around himself, but found it wasn't possible. "How about a stretcher? We could secure him to it and lift him up."

"Could I see the area he needs to be taken through? Perhaps I can help rig something up to lift the stretcher," François asked.

"That can be arranged," Hogan replied as Kinch and Olsen came into room.

"Sir, do you want us in blacks or uniform?" Olsen asked walking over by Carter, worry evident. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"It's a dark night, so blacks will be fine. The SS believe the Wehrmacht are to blame and shouldn't be combing our woods tonight. Just be careful out there," Hogan ordered. Newkirk and Olsen answered affirmatively as they left to change.

"Why did you choose to come in Wehrmacht uniforms?" François asked.

"Because they'll never admit if they have you or not due to the infighting, plus it throws them down a path that doesn't lead back to us," Hogan answered.

"That makes sense," François said, nodding his head. "Shall we take a look at where we need to move Carter?"

"Sure it's this way," Hogan said.

"Sir, may I speak with you for moment?" Wilson asked, concern filling his voice.

"Go ahead, I'll catch up," Hogan said to Kinch then turning back to Wilson.

* * *

><p>Newkirk and Olsen closed the lid on the emergency tunnel and ducked behind the bushes avoiding the ever-present roaming spotlight. Taking off towards the south, they came to the spot where the drop was to happen. "I can't believe Carter is fighting for his life," Newkirk ran a hand over his face.<p>

"Don't worry, he'll make it," Olsen said placing a hand on Newkirk's shoulder.

"Sure he will, in a few days, he'll be right as rain," Newkirk said with more conviction than he felt. Carrying the limp body of his best friend through the tunnels shook him to his core. If they'd been the same blood type, he'd hook himself up first, but they weren't. All he could do was stay out of the way and hope. Watching as the medics worked on Carter, at one point he had to leave the infirmary and hurl. LeBeau had followed him out and told him about the resistance they encountered. It was supposed to be an easy in an out mission that's why they went in as Wehrmacht officers. He wanted to go with them, but Colonel Hogan insisted on keeping the operation small. He should have been there, maybe then Carter wouldn't be in such bad shape.

"Here comes the plane now," Olsen said softly watching the sky.

"Yep, right on time," Newkirk said as he pulled the torch out of his bag. He sent the flash signal to the plane which signaled back.

"There," Olsen pointed to the small chute falling to the earth. They made their way over to the box in record time. As they retrieved it, they heard rustling in the woods coming towards them. "I'll lead them away. You get it back to camp." Then he disappeared into the woods.

Newkirk picked up the box, but before he took a few steps, he heard, "Halt!" very close behind him. Turning around he was facing the business end of a German rifle.


	3. Chapter 3

After the others had left the infirmary, Hogan went over to Wilson, "What's up?" Anderson made himself busy with Carter.

"Sir, I'm assuming any other injuries you have are bumps and bruises from the fall. Is that correct?"

Hogan looked at Wilson with his command face firmly in place, "Just worry about Carter."

"He's getting the best care we can provide. I don't want to be second-guessing and worrying about you also while I'm taking care of Carter. So sir, please level with me. Is there anything else I should know about?" Wilson asked deadpanning Hogan in the eyes.

Hogan nodded his head, swallowing his pride answered, "Seriously, I'm fine. I know I'll feel the fall tomorrow. Haven't had a chance to look, but I'm sure there are a few bruises. My shoulder is the worst, and nothing else feels like it needs attention." He hoped he'd put Wilson's mind at ease so the medic could concentrate on the real patient.

"We need you at your best to deal with Klink and any other fallout that comes from this mission, so please take the aspirin. I know your shoulder has to hurt badly. In the supplies London is sending will be a large bottle along with stronger meds too, so if you need something else just let me know," Wilson handed Hogan the aspirin. Hogan took two pills swallowing them then dropped two more into his pocket for later. "You've lost enough blood that it's important that you push fluids for the next twenty-four hours. It doesn't matter what. Water, coffee, juice, I don't care. Just consciously make an effort to drink more," Wilson requested.

"That I can do," Hogan answered thinking a cup of coffee sounded really good right now. "Are we good?"

"Yes, sir, we're good," Wilson answered. "As long as you'll tell me what you find later."

Hogan nodded his head yes. "What do you think Carter's chances are?"

"Honestly, once we have the supplies fifty-fifty."

"And if we couldn't have gotten the medications?" Hogan asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Considerably less. We'll do everything possible."

"Keep me informed," Hogan ordered then left the infirmary and went to the bunk bed entrance. "LeBeau, is there any coffee?"

"Oui, I'll get you some," LeBeau left the group.

"We have it figured out, sir," Kinch said moving ropes into position. "We're running the ropes over the top of the bunk bed so it'll be strong enough to lift Carter. If we tried putting it on just the frame, it might not hold. This way we can have men on each side and raise him flat as requested. Once he's topside slack will be added as someone pulls him over the frame. Then we just remove the ropes and carry the stretcher to his bunk."

"Good work," Hogan said looking at the setup.

"It was your Sergeant's idea," François said taking a cup of coffee from LeBeau who also handed one to Hogan. "Merci."

"Any idea how you'll explain the injuries to Klink?" Kinch asked.

"One step at a time," Hogan answered taking a drink from his coffee. He didn't have the energy to spend on that headache at the moment.

* * *

><p>"Corporal Newkirk, was ist los?" A night guard from Stalag 13 asked. He'd recently been assigned as the alternate night guard for Barracks Two.<p>

"Waechter, imagine meeting you here. I was just going for a walk," Newkirk gave him a quick smile trying to come up with a way out of this mess.

"You are escaping."

"No, I was just sleep walking and found meself here."

"In those clothes? You're out of camp and out of uniform. How do you explain it?" The guard kept his rifle pointed at the Englander.

"Oh these are my night clothes. Can't expect a man to sleep in his day clothes, can ya?"

"You're night clothes is a dingy white nightshirt. Where did you get those from?"

"Well, there you go. I needed something new so I sent off for them from a mail order catalog," Newkirk answered. "What are you doing out here alone?"

"Opper is asleep against a tree trunk but I'm a more careful soldier. What's in the box?"

"I don't know, just stumbled across it," Newkirk's mind was working overtime, but not finding a good way out yet.

"I don't believe you. You're involved in sabotage and part of the underground. My boss will be interested in hearing your story," Corporal Waechter had a satisfied look on his face.

"So we should go see Colonel Klink?" Newkirk asked unsure what the German had meant.

"Why? So Colonel Hogan can bamboozle him with some made up story? Nein, my real boss, Major Hochstetter will be interrogating you," Waechter grinned.

"Major Hochstetter? You're Gestapo?" Newkirk could barely believe it.

"He sent me in undercover to as you say lay-low and observe. He was right, given enough time someone in Barracks Two would mess up. Now you have and will explain all your activities to the Major," Waechter jeered. Olsen quietly moved around behind the gestapo agent unsure if Newkirk had seen him or not. "Now I have proof that you're part of the underground. The Major will be very pleased with my work."

"You wouldn't consider talking to Colonel Klink instead would ya?"

"Nein, put the box down, and your hands above your head."

"And why would I do something like that?" Newkirk had noticed Olsen about to make a move.

"Because the alternative is that I shoot you here. Either way, everyone is Barracks Two will be in a Gestapo cell tonight. Who else is out here with you? LeBeau, Carter, or perhaps Papa Bear himself," he looked around a bit to ensure they were alone never letting his prisoner out of his line of sight.

"You've been reading too many fairy tales. Besides I told you I was sleep walkin'. Generally that's done alone mate. I'm getting mighty sleepy, think I'll head back to me bunk now," Newkirk yawned hoping to keep the guard's attention on him.

"Put your hands above your head now or I'll shoot," he reached for the handcuffs on his belt. So pleased with his catch, he was unaware of the movement behind him. At the very last second, he turned his head towards the woods behind him but it was too late. Olsen was upon him and in one swift movement broke his neck without a sound made.

"Glad you were around," Newkirk said letting out a deep breath.

"Can't leave you alone for a moment," Olsen teased as he drug the body over behind some brush. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, no worries. The Gov'nor isn't going to be happy about this," Newkirk was looking around for more trouble.

"What? His being Gestapo or that I had to kill him?"

"Both."

"True, but better than having to explain to Hochstetter," Olsen dug through his pockets. Finding what he was looking for he dropped it by the body. "Let's get out of here."

"What was that?" Newkirk asked as they made their way to camp.

"A Wehrmacht button. I was a Boy Scott, their motto was to always be prepared," Olsen answered.

"Were you expectin' trouble?"

"Always," he answered as both men continued in silence until they got back to camp. Newkirk took the supplies to the infirmary, while Olsen found Hogan near the bunk bed entrance quickly explaining what had happened.

Hogan sat down shaking his head. "Waechter was Gestapo?" He was having trouble getting his mind around it. The guard had always seemed meek, but his gut would never allow him to let his guard down around the man.

"Yes, sir, that's what he said."

"What about the body?"

"Didn't have time to hide it, but put it under some brush. If you want I can go back out and bury it," Olsen said.

"No, it's too dangerous. Hopefully with your counter-measures, they'll blame it on the Wehrmacht," Hogan replied.

"Colonel, it seems you have a lot of trouble," François said looking slightly bewildered.

"Nothing we can't handle," Hogan gave him a reassuring smile. "LeBeau, would you get our guest settled?"

"Oui, mon Colonel," LeBeau answered taking the scientist to where he'd stay.

"What do you want us to do?" Kinch asked, once they were alone.

"Let's try to keep François calm and not discuss it in front of him. Tomorrow we have to check out all the guards posted here in the last six months," Hogan ran a hand through his hair.

"But we checked them all out when they arrived," Olsen said.

"Obviously not well enough. We have to be sure Waechter was working alone. I want everyone to know that as of now the Germans have to be treated as hostile until we're sure what we're dealing with," Hogan ordered receiving 'yes sir' from his men. "Kinch, wake up everyone we'll need upstairs. We'll go get Carter."

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied leaving.

Hogan turned to Olsen asking. "How are you doing?"

"I'm all right sir. Not what I wanted to do but I'll be okay," Olsen answered. Killing an enemy soldier on a mission was one thing, doing it with his bare hands was another.

"If you need to talk, I'll be available."

"Thank you, sir, I appreciate that," Olsen said with a small smile as they walked into the tunnel infirmary. "Anything I can do to help?"

Wilson and Anderson had Carter on the stretcher. "No I think we pretty much have it. Sir, Paul will go back to his hut tonight and I'll stay in Barracks Two. After roll call he'll come relieve me." Hogan gave his approval as the men picked Carter up slowly making their way to the barracks entrance. Once there, they tied the stretcher to the rope lift allowing four men to pull the stretcher up safely. Waiting above was Newkirk, Kinch, Garlotti, and Baker who stabilized the stretcher and got it into the barracks. Wilson supervised moving Carter from the stretcher to his bunk.

"Did we move him gently enough?" Newkirk asked, anxiously.

"Yeah, I think so. Now we just have to wait. Why don't you get some rest, I'll stay up with him," Wilson responded reassuringly.

"That sounds like a good idea for everyone," Hogan said climbing up the ladder. He bid his men goodnight closing his door. Leaning against the bedframe, he ran a hand over his face letting out a deep sigh. This night turned into a nightmare and he didn't know what the fallout was going to be in the morning. He bent down and opened his secret stash of Scotch and took a long swig. Although he wanted another one, he knew it wasn't a good idea even if Wilson wanted to him to push fluids, so he put the cap back on it then put it in its storage spot. After changing, Hogan lay down in bed unsure if sleep would come.

Out in the main area, the men were getting ready for bed. "François seems like an all right sort of fella," Newkirk said changing into his nightshirt.

"I'm not so sure about him," LeBeau made a sour face.

"Why do you say that? Look what he did with London for Carter," Newkirk was confused.

"He seems okay, a bit traumatized but after what he's been through, would any of us be any different?" Olsen asked taking his shirt off.

"I don't know. I'm just not convinced he's trustworthy," LeBeau answered.

"Did something happen during the rescue that's bothering you?" Kinch asked pulling his nightclothes on.

"Non."

"He did a lot tonight and helped us get the rig up to bring Carter up here," Kinch defended the scientist.

"He could have done more in the car before we got here," LeBeau said.

"The man had just been rescued from the SS. No telling what he's been through over the last year while in their custody," Kinch said shaking his head.

"Still I think it's best if we keep an eye on him," LeBeau shrugged his shoulders.

"Could your worry over Carter be influencing your opinion of François?" Newkirk asked climbing up on his bunk.

"Possibly. I'm going to make sure he has everything he needs," LeBeau said climbing back down the ladder as the others lay down in their respective bunks.

Olsen turned facing the wall, and he tried to close his eyes, but all he could see was the shocked look on the face of the man he'd killed tonight during the last half second of his life. It was a sight that would haunt him for a long time. Newkirk looked across the room watching his mate facing the wall. He knew the burden Olsen carried would affect him, and only hoped he could help him lay that burden down in the days to come.


	4. Chapter 4

Too early the next morning, Schultz came barging into the barracks with his loud morning voice yelling, "Raus, raus, time to get up. Roll call inside!" He started to hit the side of Carter and Newkirk's bunk only to find himself face to face with the camp medic.

"Please don't hit the bunk. Carter is very sick," Wilson said.

"Wh...wh...what are you doing here?"

"Don't you remember, you brought Wilson over last night when Carter became ill," Hogan asked coming out of his quarters pulling his shirt on. Schultz shook his head no. "What's this about roll call inside? It's not raining."

"Kommandant's orders. All prisoners are confined to barracks until further notice. What's wrong with Carter?" Schultz took a step closer looking at the stricken young man.

"Why are the prisoners confined to barracks?" Hogan asked, sure he already knew the answer.

"There's been some trouble," Schultz stopped talking and his eyes grew wide. "Carter's hurt from monkey business. Did you have something to do with a guard dying?"

"We weren't doing any monkey business last night," Newkirk said putting a hand on Schultz's shoulder. "How did a guard die?"

"Then how did Carter get hurt?" Schultz took a step back eying them suspiciously.

"Do you really want to know?" Hogan asked with a raised eye.

Schultz thought about that for a moment, "Ja. The truth not something made up."

"The tunnel we've been working on collapsed last night and we had to dig Carter out. He hurt his leg pretty bad," Hogan answered.

Schultz looked from Hogan to Carter and could see smears of dirt still on his face from the tumble down the ravine. "You weren't outside the camp?" Schultz asked, unconvinced.

"How would we get out of camp," Hogan started and Schultz gave him a look that said he wasn't a complete fool. "No, we weren't outside of camp at all. I promise you, we'd never kill a guard. Tell us what happened."

"Corporal Waechter was found dead. His neck had been broken," Schultz said, partially relieved his prisoners weren't responsible, or at least hoped they weren't.

"How terrible, did he have enemies?" Olsen asked coming over to the group.

"Nein, he got along with everyone. He even volunteered for night duty and kept an eye out on this barracks. If I didn't trust him, I'd have put him in the back of the camp. The Gestapo will be by later," Schultz explained.

"Why the Gestapo? Do they think the underground was involved?" LeBeau questioned.

"I know nothing. Nothing," Schultz started until Hogan gave him a look that made the guard drop his standard line. "They found a button from a Wehrmacht uniform near the body. But that's all I know, really. Kommandant Klink didn't tell me anything else."

"That's enough proof for you to know we'd never hurt the lad. The only German uniforms we have are Luftwaffe uniforms," Newkirk put an arm around Schultz's shoulders.

"Jolly jokers! Luftwaffe uniforms and tunnels. Was anyone else hurt in the cave in?" Schultz started looking around at the men.

"Colonel Hogan hurt his arm and should be wearing a sling," Wilson said disapprovingly.

"How did he get here?" Schultz asked pointing at Wilson.

"Don't you remember you brought him here last night?" Hogan asked, ignoring Wilson's comment.

"Nein." Hogan pulled out a candy bar. "I might remember something." A second candy bar came out. "Now I remember," Schultz's eyes sparkled. If they told him the truth or not, he knew where his chocolate came from. He also knew that reporting them would get him killed, definitely for dereliction of duty for allowing the operation to continue for so long, and possibly by the prisoners to silence him before he could talk. He'd made his decision long ago where his loyalties had to lie; now he did whatever his conscious needed to live with that decision. And for him chocolate was a good start.

"Carter is holding his own, and I should get back. Take me to my barracks, Schultzie. We don't want Langenscheidt to become confused," Wilson said buttoning up his jacket.

"But I haven't done roll call," Schultz protested.

"Everyone's here, I promise," Hogan replied. "Do you also remember that you're going to bring Sergeant Anderson over after Wilson gets to his barracks?" He held out another candy bar which Schultz reached for, but all he got was the wrapper as Hogan held onto the candy.

"Jawohl," Schultz knew he'd get the candy bar when he brought the other medic to the barracks. He looked around doing a visual to ensure everyone was present. Satisfied he escorted Wilson to his hut.

"What do you think, Colonel?" Kinch asked after the door was closed.

"Hopefully the button will be enough to keep us and the underground off the radar. We'll keep an eye out for Hochstetter to show up. That was really good thinking Olsen," Hogan gave him a smile while studying the young man.

"Thank you, sir," Olsen answered; his face exhausted, sleep had eluded him overnight. It didn't go unnoticed by either Hogan or Newkirk.

"LeBeau, what's for breakfast?" Hogan asked looking around for the Frenchman.

"I have something special in mind," LeBeau answered as he came out of Hogan's room handing the sling to the Colonel.

Hogan took it and put it on realizing just how much less his shoulder protested while wearing it. "Kinch, you want to bring up our guest and check with London and see if you can get an update on when our operative will arrive to escort François to the coast?"

* * *

><p>Hochstetter had arrived mid-afternoon to interrogate Klink, who was unimpressed Corporal Waechter was a Gestapo mole. Hochstetter left vowing to find the criminal who killed his man. As the prisoners were still confined to the barracks, Hogan had no contact with Klink during the day. The guard posted outside the barracks saw to it the prisoners stayed inside. However, the confinement gave everyone a chance to rest up from the previous night's activities. It was after lights out and the men were sitting around the table in the common room drinking newly acquired wine from Klink's stash.<p>

"How is Carter doing?" François asked as he climbed up the ladder.

"He's stable and been semi awake for a few minutes at a time," Wilson answered taking a cup of wine, and moving over so the man could sit down.

"I'm glad to hear it. How are you feeling Colonel?" the scientist asked looking across the table at him.

"The shoulder is much better, thanks," Hogan replied. "Why don't you tell us about you?"

"What do you want to know? There's not much to my life's story," he answered accepting wine from Newkirk.

"How did you go to work for the SS?" LeBeau asked without the usual warmth in his tone.

"When one has a gun pointed in his face, you quickly learn to do as you're told. I was at the university in Clermont when the Germans took it over. They gathered the engineering and mathematics professors up in one room and asked a simple question. Who didn't want to work for the greater glory of the Third Reich? A colleague and friend stood up and said he wasn't working for Hitler. The Colonel in charge took his gun out and shot him in the head. It was horrific. Needless to say, we knew what our only choice was," François said then took a long drink of his wine. LeBeau refilled his cup. "Merci."

"That's a lot of motivation for any man," Kinch said watching LeBeau. He'd spent most of the day talking with François down in the tunnels, and saw no reason for LeBeau's hesitation.

"How much did the Krauts get out of you?" Hogan asked.

"Just because I was their prisoner for a very long time doesn't mean I gave them everything I knew. I worked slowly and backwards whenever I could. I'd always been involved in rocket research, so I knew several avenues that didn't work. I pursued them as I could to delay any advancement, but that can only work for so long. The SS have unpleasant ways to encourage cooperation, which is partially why I was moved to this area. More recently, I made significant breakthroughs, but they don't know the full potential of what they have. I made sure the more promising features weren't fully realized and sabotaged the results whenever realistically possible. I'm very grateful to you and the underground for rescuing me. I'll never be able to repay you for your efforts," François said twisting his wedding ring.

"Just giving the research to our side is enough. Is there a Mrs. Barrett somewhere that we should be concerned about?" Hogan asked.

"Non," François played with his ring for a long moment before answering. "She is dead."

"Lousy Boche," LeBeau said full of conviction.

"They did not kill her. Non, I lost my Marie before the war," he stopped and took a drink of his wine.

"Tell us about her," Hogan urged.

"Marie and I were young, perhaps too young to be married but we were in love. When I first saw her, she was chasing her brother around the block because he'd caused some sort of mischief. I fell in love instantly, and had to meet her, so I had a friend introduce us. One thing led to another and within a few months, we were married. We lived in a tiny flat close to the university where I worked. Everyday I'd come home and Marie would have dinner prepared for me, most of the time it was inedible, but she tried. A cook she was not," he stopped for a moment chuckling at the memory. "Needless to say we ate out a lot."

"Was she pretty?" Newkirk asked. He could talk about women non-stop.

"She was beautiful. Her brown eyes could captivate me and I found myself lost in them often. And her smile was brighter than the moon," François's face lit up remembering his wife.

"She sounds like a remarkable woman," Kinch said thinking of the woman he loved back in the states.

"That she was. I can tell your Colonel knows what it is to love a woman," François said making all the men turn towards Hogan. "Do you have someone waiting for you back home?"

"She's waiting somewhere," Hogan answered, uncomfortable at the attention. "How did your wife die?"

François took a deep breath before continuing his story. "We had a fight; it was stupid and my fault. I stormed out angry and didn't kiss her goodbye. All morning at work, I let my anger get the best of me until my mentor spoke up. He asked me if what we fought about would matter in two years. Or could we have blown it out of proportion? His wife of forty-five years had died a year before, and he said that he'd give anything to have another chance to kiss her and tell her how much he loved her. I realized what he was saying and went home for lunch. I was going to apologize and beg forgiveness, but I never got the opportunity. When I arrived, the fire department was there and the building was completely full of fire. The fire started in the boiler room, which we lived above. I tried…I tried so hard to get in there and save her, but the flames were too hot. No one could get in, and she wasn't one of the lucky ones who got out. They say she probably died due to the force of the explosion. The building burned completely and her remains were mostly destroyed leaving not much to bury. My Marie never had a chance," François stopped wiping a tear away.

"I'm so sorry," Hogan said; the other men making similar sentiments.

"I wear my ring in honor of Marie. I loved her more than life itself. Let it be a lesson to all of you to never leave a loved one in anger. Walk away if you need to regain control, but make sure they know you still love them," François said looking at all the men.

"That's good advice," LeBeau said wondering if he'd made a mistake about the man. No one else had a nagging feeling, and he couldn't explain why he did. Nothing François did or said indicated he was anything other than what they saw. Perhaps Newkirk was right and it was his anxiety over Carter that he was projecting onto François. If they hadn't rescued him then Carter would never have been injured. LeBeau did find himself blaming François for Carter and Hogan's injuries; perhaps it was unfair, but he couldn't help how he felt.

"So who is this woman who holds your heart?" François asked looking at Hogan. "Is she beautiful?"

"Oui, she is beautiful and dangerous," LeBeau said with a smirk.

Hogan gave him a dirty look. "We try not to form those types of bonds in our line of work; you never know when the job will get in the way. Maybe when the war is over, there'll be time for something more."

"Beautiful and dangerous that sounds like an interesting combination. A toast, leadership may change, countries disintegrate, but a woman always remains a woman," François said holding his cup up.

"'ere's hoping women never change the world over," Newkirk raised his glass with the others, everyone toasting in unison.

"Any chance I'll be able to meet this woman?"

"She's not a local," Hogan said looking at his watch; it was a quarter to one. "We should try to get some sleep." The men said goodnight and went their separate ways. Alone in his room, Hogan took out a photo smiling at it whispering. _I don't know where you are, but I wish you were here tonight. _He put it back in its hiding place then lay down. Tomorrow night he could just be a man in the arms of a beautiful woman.


	5. Chapter 5

Morning roll call found the men standing outside in the crisp spring air. After it was over, Hogan followed Klink to his office to pump him for information as his men went back into the barracks.

"Newkirk?"

"Andrew, you're awake. How are you feeling?" Newkirk sat down next to him.

"Hungry," he said shifting.

"LeBeau, did you hear that? Me mate's 'ungry."

"That's wonderful news. I'll get him something," LeBeau answered starting breakfast.

"What happened?" Carter asked as Newkirk help prop him up.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Newkirk asked. This was the first time Carter had been coherent since he was injured.

Carter thought for a moment before answering, "Getting shot. Are Colonel Hogan and Barrett okay?"

"Yeah, they're both fine. The Gov'nor is over in Klink's office and François is down in the tunnel. He's been asking about you and helped us a lot to get you the care you needed." Newkirk didn't think Carter was strong enough to know Hogan had been injured just yet, besides the Colonel was on his way on the road to recovery.

"He was so scared when we showed up. It took a little convincing for him to believe we were there to rescue him," Carter said as LeBeau handed him broth and bread.

"While Wilson was working you, François held two flashlights along with the rest of us so there was enough light. When Kinch contacted London about an emergency airdrop, Colonel Hogan had to convince them. He was having some trouble with it and François told London if they didn't make the drop, he wasn't going to England but back to France. And he was serious. That's when they decided the drop would happen," Newkirk explained.

"Wow, that's pretty cool," Carter said then took a bite of his bread.

"He also helped Kinch rig a pulley system up to get you to your bunk the way Wilson wanted you brought up. Speaking of Kinch, you have his and a couple of others blood running through you," Newkirk said.

"Yeah, we're going to make you pay for it when you're feeling better," Kinch teased.

"Thanks," Carter smiled, looking up as the front door opened, and Hogan walked in.

"How did it go with Klink?" Kinch asked.

"He didn't know any more than we heard on the coffee pot. Glad to see you up and eating," Hogan said standing near Carter.

"Thanks, sir. I woke up hungry. And thanks for getting me back here," Carter's eyes met Hogan's eyes in unstated understanding. Last thing he really remembered was telling Hogan to leave him.

"Anytime. You would have done the same for me," Hogan gave him a smile.

"Is Tiger here yet?" Carter asked yawning, handing his half-finished broth to Newkirk.

"I'll bring her in tonight. When she gets here, I'll have her stop by and say hello," Hogan promised.

"I'd like that. I think I'm going to rest for a while," Carter said sliding back down on his bunk.

"That sounds like a good idea. Let us know if you need anything," Hogan said.

Newkirk stayed with his best friend until he fell back to into a peaceful sleep. Then he spent the day vetting the newer guards in the camp, again with no luck.

* * *

><p>Late afternoon Klink stormed across the compound, his riding crop firmly in place. He'd sent for Hogan over two hours ago and the American hadn't shown up in his office. The insolence of the man galled him to no end. Barging into the barracks he demanded, "Where's Colonel Hogan?"<p>

"Why Kommandant, did you come to join us for dinner?" LeBeau asked causally stirring his food.

"No, I did not. I want to know where Colonel Hogan is this instant!"

"Oh, my apologies, I'm just used to serving dinner for a Colonel and thought you'd fill that role tonight," LeBeau's eyes were sparkling.

"You're trying my patience Corporal. Why would Colonel Hogan not be eating here tonight?" Klink started tapping his foot.

"Colonel Hogan said to tell you he escaped," LeBeau answered nonchalantly.

"_WHAT?_" his monocle nearly fell from his eye.

"Colonel Hogan, the Kommandant wants to see you. He's out here," Newkirk knocked on Hogan's door. After a moment, the door opened showing Hogan and Kinch inside the private office.

"Something I can do for you, sir?" Hogan asked innocently.

"Do you know what this Frenchman said?" Klink walked into the private office. Hogan raised an eyebrow looking at LeBeau. "He told me that you'd escaped!"

Shaking his head Hogan let out an exaggerated sigh. "You weren't supposed to tell him until after I left."

"Sorry, sir," LeBeau was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

"I ordered you to my office two hours ago, I don't know what you've been doing, but I will find out. You can't hide anything from me," Klink was relieved Hogan was where he belonged.

"I wouldn't even try, sir," Hogan said with a straight face.

"What kept you from reporting as ordered?"

"I'm sorry sir, it's just camp business has had me tied up all afternoon," Hogan replied. He'd personally spoke with every barracks chief explaining the situation with Waechter and what they needed to do.

"What type of camp business?" Klink demanded.

"The usual, planning where the next tunnel should be dug, working out the best escape route to the coast," Hogan said, with a sparkle in his eyes. Kinch was having a hard time keeping his face neutral.

"Colonel Hogan, I do not find this type of humour funny," Klink fumed.

"Sorry sir," Hogan looked appropriately chastised. "What did you need to see me about?"

"The wire for expanding the camp through the fields the prisoners have just cleared will arrive tomorrow. So post-holes will need to be dug for the wire next. Next week, the materials for the new barracks will arrive. I expect the prisoners to build the new barracks as we worked out," Klink stated.

"I'm sure I can find volunteers to cut the wire," Hogan said with a grin.

"My men will take care of the wire when the time is right," Klink said firmly. "Don't keep me waiting the next time I send for you." Klink left the office stopping in front of LeBeau snapping. "You're on report!" Then he left the barracks forgetting to find out why Carter wasn't in roll call.

After the door closed, Hogan gave LeBeau a dirty look.

"Sorry mon Colonel, I couldn't help myself," he defended himself.

"Don't wind Klink up unnecessarily," Hogan ordered then closed his office door before the Corporal could see him and Kinch laughing. "Even when I tell Klink the truth he doesn't believe me. Am I losing my touch?"

"I'd say you have it down perfectly, sir. If he believed you, we'd be in trouble," Kinch laughed as he pulled the map of Germany back out. "I think you're right, this will be the best route for Tiger to take François to the coast."

* * *

><p>Immediate after lights out, Hogan went down in the tunnel changing into a German Captain's Luftwaffe uniform making sure he looked good. Then he made his way out the emergency tunnel and into town. Coming to the right apartment building, Hogan walked up the stairs scanning the floor above as it came into view. Stopping at the top of the stairs, he looked around for any possible threats. The only movement was an old orange tabby cat licking its paw in front of one of the doors. "Have you been out prowling tonight too?" he smirked at the cat. It looked up at him studying him for a moment then went back to washing its paw. Walking towards the door at the end of the hallway, he flicked off a piece of lint on his uniform. Reaching his destination a door opened behind him, he spun to see who it was. An elderly woman stood in the doorway, their eyes met for a moment with an amused smile and twinkle in her eyes, she nodded her head while shooing the cat inside. The cat gave Hogan one last look then with a flick of his tail entered his home. As that door closed, the one in front of him opened and he was beckoned inside. "I saw the neighbor across the hall," he said taking his coat off.<p>

"The old woman with the cat?" Tiger asked wrapping her arms around his neck. He nodded his head snaking his arms around her waist. "She's harmless, nothing to worry about." She reached up kissing him slowly and tenderly. "Did you have any trouble getting here?"

"No, none at all. How about you?" he asked. She shook her head no. "I missed you so much," he captured her lips in a hungry passionate kiss for a long moment.

"I can feel how much you missed me," she said breathlessly with his awaking passion rubbing against her. He nibbled on her ear making her knees weak. "How much time do we have?"

"A couple of hours," he mumbled trailing kisses down her delicate neck.

"What do you think we should do?" she asked playfully.

"I'm sure we can think of something," he moved to the other side of her neck, his growing interest pressing harder against her.

"Perhaps, we should go over the mission parameters," she said. Hogan pulled back in shock, until he saw the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"I'll show you the mission parameters," he picked her up and slung her over his good shoulder in a fireman's hold with a smug grin.

"Let me down!" she yelled hitting his back. He carried her to the bed gently placing her on it, lying down on top of her. Tiger wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. "Now you're my prisoner and you can never leave," her lips back on his in a deep kiss.

"I'm not fighting to escape," he answered then they rolled over.

An hour and half later, Hogan lay lazily with his head on Tiger's chest. "I wish we could stay like this forever," he said feeling safe for the first time in a long time.

"I would like that very much, mon amour," Tiger's finger was gently tracing circles on his temple. "Though, I suppose we should get going."

"Yeah, you're right," Hogan reached up kissing her, then got up to dress. Tiger stood taking her bra off the top of the lamp going around the room gathering the rest of her clothing. She stopped in the middle of the room puzzled. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find my panties," she answered looking under the lamp's table.

"Who says you need them," Hogan said suggestively wagging his eyebrows giving her bedroom eyes.

"Well, if I have them," she pulled him close whispering in his ear. _"We could see how many places in the tunnels we can lose them."_ Then she blew in his ear.

"Oh the lady needs serious help," Hogan said and started looking around. He found them under his side of the bed next to his missing sock. After both were presentable and had gathered Tiger's stuff, they headed to Stalag 13.

Newkirk met them at the tunnel entrance. "Hello luv," he gave Tiger a hug.

"I heard about Carter, is he awake?" Tiger asked as they walked down the tunnel.

"No, Wilson had to sedate him. He was in a lot of pain, so it'll be morning before you can see him. However, our guest is awake and he'd like to meet you tonight if you're up to it," Newkirk replied.

"Of course," Tiger answered following Newkirk to the guest quarters.

"François, I'd like you to meet Tiger. Tiger, this is François Barrett," Newkirk made introductions. He stood to the side of Tiger with Hogan just behind her.

"Marie?"

"François," Tiger stared at the man in front of her. She slumped against Hogan who protectively put his arms around her holding her up.

"Colonel Hogan, how did you manage this? How did you know my wife was alive?" François asked obviously in shock. "Mon amour, I thought you were dead.

"Non, non, non, you're dead. How can you be here?" Tiger took a hesitant step towards her husband.

"Obviously the tale of my death was mistaken," François said, still unbelieving she was alive.

"That I can remedy," Tiger said, her voice angry. She reached down, pulling a knife out of her boot lunging at her husband.


	6. Chapter 6

Newkirk grabbed Tiger's hands fighting her over the knife, "Let go."

"Non, I will kill him!" She yelled as Newkirk took the knife away from her, forcing her backwards out of the room, Hogan guiding from behind.

"Salope!" François yelled starting to go after Tiger.

Kinch stood in his way, eyes blazing, "This way, now!" He herded the scientist in the opposite direction of the others.

LeBeau glared at François daring him to defy them. "What did you do to Tiger? How can you call her your wife in one breath and then _that_ in another? What type of man are you? Are you even a man?" LeBeau threw at François shoving him towards the back of the tunnels.

"She tried to kill me!" François yelled, highly offended by their treatment.

"We know her very well and she wouldn't have responded like that unless provoked or without a really good reason. I suggest you explain yourself," LeBeau's eyes were so cold that they frightened Kinch.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. This is a matter between Marie and me," François retorted, angrily.

"I don't believe you're married to her. What other lies have you told?" LeBeau demanded standing intimidatingly close to the scientist. His gut feeling now validated in his mind. Why hadn't the others listened to him?

François fumed but didn't respond. Instead, he sat down on a chair crossing his arms refusing to speak. Kinch and LeBeau stood guard over him making sure he'd cause no trouble until Hogan decided what to do with him. LeBeau had a few choice ideas of his own what to do with the man.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Hogan and Newkirk corralled Tiger into the radio room with difficulty.<p>

"Why do you have him here? How can he be here? He's dead. He has to be dead," Tiger paced the length of the room in long strides. Newkirk thought she looked possessed with so much rage protruding off of her that heat could be seen in the air around her. He stood back a safe distance, blocking her from going back to where the scientist was.

"Tiger, ca…," Hogan stopped in mid-word as her head snapped up at him, eyes ablaze. He realized telling her to calm down at the moment would be detrimental to his personal health. "I don't understand. How do you know him?"

"How could you set me up like this?" she threw out, betrayal evident in her face and tone. Newkirk was taken aback by her question.

Hogan reached out to touch her arm but pulled his hand back quickly, swearing she growled. "Slow down. I didn't know you even knew him. I don't understand what's going on here. Talk to me. How do you know François?" Tiger marched back and forth making quick turns as she came to the room's end, living up to her namesake. At this moment, Hogan couldn't imagine of a more dangerous animal. He shared a bewildered look with Newkirk.

"Gov'nor, do something," Newkirk pleaded nearly panicking. Hogan looked over at Newkirk, who was standing on the opposite side of the room, telling him with his eyes he was trying. For the moment, they'd have to wait her out.

"Tiger," Hogan said hesitantly after about her fiftieth pass through the small room and her speaking in fast angry French had ceased. Most of the words he couldn't understand, however her tone expressed what she was saying without translation.

"Why is he here?" she demanded coming to a stop in the middle of the room.

"An assignment from London, they wanted him rescued from the SS and sent to England. He's been working on rockets," Hogan answered breathing a sigh of relief she was talking to him now.

"He should be dead! How is he not?"

"I don't know," Hogan replied. He noticed Newkirk's eyes still showed fear of Tiger, so for the moment he was keeping his mouth shut. "Why should he be dead?"

"He's a lying two faced bastard not to be trusted!"

At least they were getting somewhere with answers, but Hogan wasn't sure where that somewhere was at the moment. "Obviously, he's done something horrible. How do you know him?"

"He's my ex; well, I thought he was my ex. Give me five minutes and we'll be divorced!" Passionate anger filled her voice. "I saw him go into the building then it exploded. How did he live through that?"

"He said someone named Marie died in a fire," Newkirk said gaining a bit of confidence back.

"Obviously I didn't!" Tiger snapped glaring at the Englander. Newkirk opened then closed his mouth deciding he'd said enough.

"He called you his wife," Hogan started only to have Tiger turn on him.

"I'm nothing to that filthy pig! I was never anything more than a possession to be conquered in his eyes. A rag doll for him to do as he pleased," she stopped taking deep breaths lowering her voice. "Well no more. He will never treat me like a waif again, I'll see to it he's terrified to be in the same country as me."

"The pencil sharpener near his throat gave him that message loud and clear," Newkirk said almost regretting the words as they left his mouth.

"He'd be lucky to have his throat cut. Non, I will slice lower letting him bleed to death," Tiger's voice was calculating. Newkirk swallowed hard, his hands protectively moved to shield his manhood.

"I understand that he's seriously pissed you off," Hogan started, his mouth going dry. Tiger's glare didn't help matters. "But I'm trying to catch up here. Wife?"

"I've told you about him. He's the one," she stopped choosing her words carefully. "He's the one who caused the scar." She looked down unable to meet Hogan's eyes.

"Newkirk, would you check on the others?"

"Yes, Gov'nor," he understood they needed some privacy, and hoped Hogan knew what he was doing being alone with Tiger. Besides, Newkirk wanted to pummel whatever LeBeau had left of the bloody scientist for pissing Tiger off so much that he feared her.

Hogan instantly knew what she referred to; the only thing that caused Tiger shame. He reached out putting a hand on her shoulder moving both of them over to the bench to sit down. "Would you tell me about the last time you saw him?"

* * *

><p><em>Flashback France 1937<em>

"Marie, are you in there?" Isabella called out knocking on the door.

"Can you get me out?" Marie replied from the other side. Her face stained with tears.

"Oui, Rémy brought his lock picking tools," Isabella said as her brother worked on the lock.

"Hurry, he'll kill all of us if he comes back. He forgot his lunch, and he'll be home soon for it," Marie pleaded. A small suitcase stood next to the door and they would run as soon as it was opened. She'd covered the bruises on her face the best she could with makeup, but they were still easy to see.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Rémy opened the door. "Why does he lock you inside?"

"He's a pig! Oh Marie," Isabella gasp as she saw her friend. The evidence of the latest beating was one of the worst she'd ever seen the seventeen-year-old have to endure. "Do you have everything? You're never coming back here."

"Oui," Marie answered timidly as she pulled a scarf around her hair trying to hide her face.

"We should go out the back way," Rémy said as he reached down and picked up the suitcase then helped his sister get Marie to the stairs. "Someone should teach him a lesson of what a beating feels like."

"Non, he can never know you helped me," Marie begged as they started down the stairs.

"Don't worry, you're safe now. He'll never place a hand on you again," Rémy promised vowing to himself that François would pay. As they exited the far side, an explosion rocked the building. The concussive force of the explosion threw them to the ground knocking them unconscious for a few minutes. Rémy came to first and looked around. Fire had engulfed the first floor and the flames licked out of the structure like a bedlamite reaching for its victims. Marie came to next as Rémy was trying to awaken his sister. "Help me get her out of here!" Both picked up Isabella with an arm stretched over each of the shoulders. She moaned softly as they carried her to safety.

Fire trucks could be heard in the distance growing closer. People were yelling trying to get to the others trapped on the upper floors out, as the friends made a slow trek around to the side of the building to where the car was parked. While they placed Isabella in the backseat, two fire trucks came to a screeching halt between their side of the street and the building blocking them from view. Three men jumped off the truck stretching a hose to the fire hydrant. Marie and Rémy went around the fire engine to see what was happening.

"There are still people in there, we have to help," Marie said, but Rémy held her back. Both well aware if they'd tarried a moment longer before leaving the building, they'd been trapped inside.

"We can't. The firemen will get them out. We have to help Isabella," he tried to guide her back to the car.

"François!" Marie gasped trembling.

Rémy looked up in time to see François running towards the front of the building; he stood with his hands on the side of his head in shock. Then he ran towards the main entrance only to be chased away by flames; undeterred, he sprinted to the side entrance. Seconds after disappearing around the side, a second explosion brought what was left of the building down. "Come," he pulled Marie away and got her in the car then drove home.

* * *

><p>"Isabella was all right after some rest. Three days later I boarded a train for Paris never looking back," Tiger answered. "Why did you not tell me he was here?"<p>

"I did tell you we had a French rocket scientist we needed you to escort to the submarine. Why didn't you tell me you were married?" Hogan asked bewildered at that thought. He was not the type of man to sleep with a married woman.

"François is my past. A past that was to always remain buried. One thing I can promise you, nothing he says you can believe. The face he presents in public is charming and proper, but the truth in private is vile and deceitful. I would not put it past him to be a plant by the SS to capture you and your men," Tiger's expression emphasized her fear for Hogan's safety.


	7. Chapter 7

Hogan took a deep breath weighing his words before speaking. "I doubt he's a plant. London has followed his work with rockets for a long time. And it took a lot of planning to get him away from them. If he'd been a plant, we wouldn't have run into so much trouble rescuing him."

"Still he's dangerous and shouldn't left to wander alone down here," Tiger insisted.

"I completely agree, and he hasn't been alone so far and I'll continue to make sure someone is always around," Hogan promised. His immediate concern was how to keep the two from killing each other until he could get François to London.

"You're bothered because of the short marriage we had," Tiger looked deep into Hogan's eyes. He nodded his head yes. "It wasn't a marriage made in heaven, more like purgatory. I never wanted to marry him, he disgusted me from the first time I met him. I had no choice and was only sixteen years old when my father forced me into the marriage. He owed a large gambling debt that he couldn't pay. The person who owned his marker was going to start taking it out on my five brothers if my father didn't find a way to pay. He promised to kill one of my brothers a week until the debt was paid or my father ran out of sons. I don't know how my father found François, but he had money and would only pay off my father's debt if I married him. When I looked at him all I could see was a dirty old man and he made me sick to my stomach. He's fifteen years older than I," Tiger stopped shuddering at the memory. "As far as I'm concerned, I was never married. I was a slave."

Hogan put an arm around her. "I promise you, he'll never hurt you again. I'm so sorry; I had no idea that he was the François you'd mentioned before."

Tiger held a finger to his lips stopping his next words. "How could you? François is a very common name. It's my fault for never telling you the whole story. Our time is so precious and little that drudging up old ghosts stories never seemed appropriate, so I thought it could wait until after the war. The here and now is what is important. I'm sorry for the things I said to you earlier. I didn't mean any of them. You would never have done anything to harm me."

"Don't apologize," Hogan reached in kissing her. "Why don't you go upstairs and wait for me? It's too cold for you in the tunnel. Once I handle things down here I'll join you."

"Oui," Tiger relented then went over to the bunk bed entrance and climbed upstairs. She knew she couldn't trust herself to be alone with her husband down here. She'd have to get François out of Stalag 13 before dissolving their marriage in whatever shape that took.

Hogan watched her disappear over the edge of the frame and closed the entrance. Running a hand through his hair, he didn't know what he felt at the moment. If he'd known Tiger was married, he'd never had started a relationship with her. Even though she thought she was a widow, it bothered him as their earlier activities filtered through his mind. If she had been a widow, it would never have bothered him. As LeBeau said, she was a beautiful and dangerous woman and until this was settled, he'd have to keep his hands to himself. He had no idea how this would turn out personally. What was he going to do with her husband? Hogan grimaced thinking of François as her husband. The stories each told of their so-called marriage were completely opposite of each other and he was inclined to believe Tiger. With purposeful strides, he went to the back of the tunnels where Kinch and the others had the scientist corralled. François was sitting in a chair; arms crossed, scrawling, and still not speaking.

"Is Tiger all right?" LeBeau asked as Hogan entered the room. LeBeau stood with his arms crossed glaring at François.

"Yes, she's upstairs," Hogan replied as he studied the man in question. He picked up a chair turning it backwards straddling it. "We need to talk."

"I don't understand. She looks like my Marie, but she definitely didn't act like her. How could she even be alive? I'm at a loss. I buried her," François answered, appearing confused and frightened.

"She says the same thing about you," Hogan answered.

"How did she get out? Where has she been? Why didn't she try to find me if she was alive? What has happened to her?"

Hogan wasn't going to tell the man anything Tiger had confided in him. "I don't know. What I do know is that it's best if the two of you stay separated for now."

"I want to talk to my wife!" François demanded, angrily.

"And we'll arrange that. However, until she's willing to speak with words instead of sharp implements, I suggest you give her space. Perhaps tomorrow we can try to broker some type of truce and you'll be able to talk to her. In the meantime, you're free to do as you please down here. I'd suggest getting some rest. Don't try to come topside without an escort. Someone will be around to tell you if it's safe," Hogan said standing up. He knew right now, he'd get nothing out of the man. Heck, he was still trying to get _his_ mind wrapped around the situation. As if having to worry about Carter living and Gestapo spies in camp weren't enough. "Gentlemen, if you'll come with me." His men followed Hogan out of the area quietly until they were far enough away to not be overheard.

"You can't just leave him down here! Shouldn't we lock him up? Obviously he's not trustworthy if Tiger had such a reaction to him," LeBeau asked, his eyes flashing angrily.

"Right now, he hasn't done anything to warrant being locked up or under armed guard. London still needs his expertise and the sooner we can get rid of him the better. Kinch, tomorrow contact the underground and see if they can take him off our hands. In the meantime, I want someone down here at all times. He's not to be alone. Is that understood?" Hogan ordered.

"Tiger thinks he's a bloody monster. Isn't that enough to lock him away?" Newkirk asked. Hogan gave him a stern look. "How do we know Carter getting shot was an accident now?"

"Everyone needs to take a step back and calm down. We'll get this sorted. There's no reason to assume François is anything more than a scientist forced to work for the SS. Until we know more, he's to be treated as a guest not a prisoner. Is that understood?" Hogan repeated. Newkirk and LeBeau reluctantly agreed. "Who will take night watch?"

"I will stay with him tonight," LeBeau declared.

"I'll stay with Louie," Newkirk offered.

"I don't mind staying, sir. Then I can make those inquiries with the underground," Kinch said.

"LeBeau and Kinch, you stay. Newkirk upstairs," Hogan ordered. He didn't need two hot heads watching the man right now. Kinch would ensure cooler heads prevailed.

Newkirk protested but Hogan reminded him that Carter would need him tomorrow. "Sir, I could tell you didn't know about them being married. How are you handling the revelation?" Newkirk asked as they left the others and headed upstairs.

"Honestly, I don't know yet," Hogan replied as the ladder dropped. A simple rescue mission was what London described. When did anything they were involved in ever turn out to be simple?

* * *

><p>François paced the tunnels trying to come to terms with what had happened. Marie being alive was something he'd never considered. The fire burned so hot that no identifications could be made of the few skeletal remains found in the debris. She was here, alive, as beautiful as ever; and regardless of whether she liked it or not, she still belonged to him. It wouldn't take him long to remind her that her brothers were alive only by his generosity ensuring she would take her rightful place by his side, or they'd suffer for her indiscretion. Of course, he'd have to punish her for that public display of anger and attempting to stab him. He'd require her to account for her every action since they'd last been together; especially how she got out of the apartment so he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Marie had made a couple of attempts to run away early in their marriage, but he'd thought he'd handled that errant behavior. Perhaps he'd been too generous with allowing her to go to the market by herself once a week. From now on, he'd keep her on a shorter lease never allowing her to be out in public alone. He'd thought keeping her locked inside the apartment without a key to get out would teach her to obey without question, allowing him to reward her occasionally. After all, it was her fault for him having to take such drastic measures in the first place. Obviously, it didn't work and he wouldn't make that error again.<p>

He thought back to the fire. The story he'd told Hogan and his men, he had told so many times that he nearly believed it himself. When he got to the building that day, all he could think of was his work going up in smoke. Cursing Marie for not throwing his work out the window, he tried to go in the front of the building but the flames were too hot so he went around the side. He started to enter the stairwell when a box lying in the grass caught his attention. Instead of going inside, he went to investigate only to find it was tossed rubbish. That's when the second explosion occurred, so, in a way, the trash had saved his life. Had he been inside he might have perished. A fireman made him move away from the building and people started consoling him for the loss of his wife. He did mourn her death, as she was the one possession that he couldn't replace, and he'd paid a lot for her.

François sat down on his bunk with a grin on his face. Now he had Marie back, and Hogan would ensure she obeyed his every command as a good wife always should.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day, Olsen and Newkirk were standing against the water tower causally watching Mueller, a guard who'd entered camp about the same time Waechter had. "What do ya think?"

"I don't know. He's not the most observant guard, and he's avoided the nightshift like the plague," Olsen replied.

"So the opposite of Waechter," Newkirk said. "But that's not really what I meant."

"You're right, Hochstetter's plan was to lay-low and observe. This guy takes as many naps as Schultz does, so that's probably a little lower than even Hochstetter would allow. I'd say we don't cross him off completely, but move onto the next guard, Pfeffer," Olsen started to move away, when Newkirk stopped him.

"You did what had to be done," Newkirk deadpanned him not allowing Olsen to leave. "Now you're not sleeping or eating. All you've done since we got back has been to avoid everyone, which, in itself, is a pretty good trick, especially considering the close quarters in the hut. We have to talk about it, or it's going to eat you alive."

"There's nothing to talk about," Olsen replied sharply.

"Which only proves even more that something is wrong."

Olsen turned away from Newkirk taking deep breaths before facing him again. "He wasn't the first enemy soldier I've killed and I seriously doubt he'll be the last. So you see there's no reason for you to be concerned. Drop it."

"Then tell me why you haven't been eatin'?"

"LeBeau has been showing off for François cooking really rich French foods. My stomach can't handle the food he's putting out. If you want to fix something, make LeBeau start cooking normal again. I'm about ready to eat the German cooking in the mess hall!"

"That I'll give ya," Newkirk said with a hand over his stomach. "Me system can't handle it either. But you haven't been sleeping either and you can't convince me it's the food. The bags under your eyes are gonna make Klink think you're digging tunnels. And I know for a fact that you hate digging."

"In some cultures, if a man saves another man's life, the one saved owes the rescuer his life and he never questions him."

"Yeah, well I'm British. In what culture would that be?"

"The Japanese culture, so leave it alone."

"Funny, we're fightin' them too. Care to try again?"

"What do you want?" Olsen asked, harshly.

"I want to help you work this out. If you didn't look so bad, I'd back off; but have you looked in a mirror recently? Brian, talk to me. You can't hold this inside or it's going to destroy you. I should know, cause I'm the expert at it. I did the same thing after the first time I killed."

"Why should it bother me? He's not the first man I've killed," Olsen said angrily. The look on Newkirk's face made him soften his tone. "I think I just need some time."

"I'm guessing he's the first kill up close and personal that makes a difference," Newkirk replied.

"Actually he wasn't. It doesn't make any sense to me either. I just need to get my head wrapped around it and I will."

"That I'm sure of, just remember I'm here when you're ready to talk about it," Newkirk placed a hand on Olsen's shoulder.

"Thanks," Olsen said with a small smile. "Let's change the subject. What do you think of Tiger and François being married?"

"Well that was one heck of a bloody shocker. Let me tell ya, when we had to pull Tiger off of him and she was so angry. I'd rather been facing Hochstetter than her! She's one scary lady when furious."

"There's no love in that marriage. The way he talked about her when he thought she was dead, and how he's acting now. I can't understand it. It's shaken the Colonel too. Man do I feel sorry for him," Olsen shook his head.

"You're telling me! I don't know who was more shocked, François and Tiger each finding out the other was alive, or the Gov'nor learning Tiger was married. Tiger will have some explaining to do. Speaking of which, maybe we should go see what's happening. Pfeffer won't even be awake for a few hours, and then we can pump him for information. Bloody hell, I hope there are no more Gestapo spies hanging out around here," Newkirk said as both men went to the barracks.

As the men entered the hut, Schultz passed them leaving it. He'd begged Hogan to ensure the Kommandant didn't find out that Tiger was in camp, again.

"Carter, can I borrow Tiger?" Hogan asked, standing behind her.

"Sure, sir. Thanks for talking to me," Carter said to Tiger.

"I enjoyed our conversation. Perhaps later we can visit some more," Tiger let go of Carter's hand she'd been holding for the last hour then followed Hogan into his room. "I think I know what you want to discuss. François."

"He's asking to talk to you. How do you feel about that?" Hogan asked cautiously, not wanting a repeat of last night.

Tiger sighed pacing around the little room. "I will speak with him. There's a lot we need to go over. Like how to get a divorce. I'm sure it can be done once he's in England, but I won't escort him to the coast."

"That goes without saying. Umm," Hogan hesitated, unsure how to ask the next question. Tiger gave him a confused look. "Do your knives need to stay up here?"

She smiled before answering, "I promise to not stab him as long as he behaves himself. As Newkirk said earlier, it would make an awful bloody mess to clean up. Non, if he gets out of hand, there are less messy ways to kill him." Both of Hogan's eyebrows shot up, he wasn't comforted by that statement. "Relax, I'm joking. Mostly."

"Let's try to keep the killing to a minimum," Hogan replied. "Do you want me to be there while you talk or do you prefer privacy?"

Tiger paced a moment thinking over the options. "I think we need the privacy for now. But in case he gets out of hand, I would like you to be close by if you don't mind."

"You know I'd do anything for you. Newkirk and I will be close enough you just need to shout and we'll come running. If you're at all uncomfortable or he tries to make a move on you, yell. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it," Hogan said, worry evident.

Tiger stood in front of him, "I know. Let's get this over with." She reached up and gave him a kiss. Then they went downstairs with Newkirk. Tiger walked into the area where François waited.

"Marie," François said with an air of superiority.

"François," she replied tersely.

"You look well," he said watching her every move, unsure if she'd pull out another knife. He'd hoped Hogan had disarmed her as he'd requested.

"And you're alive."

"When I saw the fire, my first thoughts were how to get to you. I had to save you," the sincerity in his voice didn't fool her.

"Me, your work, or your mistress?"

"You of course. I had no mistress. How could you ask such a question?"

"Because I know you and knew all about you and Juliet. I didn't mind, it meant you left me alone," Tiger replied standing a good distance from her husband. He was momentarily speechless that she knew the woman's name, or anything about the affair.

"Juliet was a mistake, a temporary lapse in judgment. I'm very happy that you're alive, although a bit confused," he took a step towards her stretching out his hand to touch her. Tiger pulled back, crossing her arms, an angry look upon her face. He got the message and moved backwards. "How did you escape the fire?"

"Don't you mean, how did I get out of the apartment you locked me in before the building exploded?"

"Did you have something to do with the explosion?" he asked, a little afraid of the possible answer.

"Non, I don't know how it started. I was outside when the first explosion occurred. I saw you go to the side door, just before the second explosion. What happened?"

"Fortunately, I never made it inside. All I could think about was getting you out, and was devastated by losing you. Do you know how many people you hurt by allowing them to believe you were dead? Where did you go? If you thought I was dead, why did you leave?"

"Everyone thought I was dead, and that was the best way to start my life over. I took the next train to Paris where I found people that would help me," Tiger answered.

"What people?"

"Good people. Honest, decent, and they cared about me. Why do you want to know anyway?"

"I would like to thank them for taking such good care of you, and show them my gratitude," François said.

Tiger glared daggers at him. "You're not on the same level as these people. These are good people and I'd never subject them to the likes of you." They were the beginnings of the French underground when Germany invaded France in 1940, and she'd never reveal who they were to him.

François didn't respond, but promised himself that when he got her to London he'd get the names out of her. They'd know his wrath for hiding his wife. "That's all right; I wouldn't want you to do anything you weren't comfortable with. I'm not the same man I was when we were together. When we get to London, we'll have time to get to know each other again."

"I'm not going to London with you!" Tiger declared, her body language reinforcing her words.

"Of course you are, you're my wife and will do what I say," François said angrily, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

"You haven't changed one bit. You're still the same arrogant, controlling, bastard that you were when we married."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I spoke out of anger. The thought of finding you and losing you again makes me afraid. I don't want to lose you ever again. I love you so much. Please forgive me," François begged.

"You never had me to lose and will never know what real love is. You'll always be a callous bastard."

"Me callous? You cruelly let people think you were dead. Do you know how devastated your friend Isabella was? She couldn't even attend your funeral. Rémy came explaining that his sister was too shattered to attend," he threw at her. Tiger didn't try to hide her smile. "You think destroying your best friend is funny? And you call me a monster?"

"I'd heard of the other deaths, and was at the memorial service the next day. It was so tragic, but I didn't stay long. Isabella had been injured in the explosion and Rémy didn't want me to leave her alone. The day of my funeral, Rémy went to keep up appearances. Isabella took me to the train station and saw me off to Paris. I had a suitcase, a paper with a name on it, and a few francs. So no, she was never upset or destroyed."

"Then you knew I was alive. Why the act that I wasn't?"

"What do you mean?"

"Rémy knew I was alive. How could you not?"

"He knew?" Tiger was taken aback.

"Both of them did. I'd see them from time to time. Perhaps they weren't as good of friends as you thought they were," François smirked.

"Non, they were even better. They knew I needed time to heal, so they protected me, and then the war happened, so you mattered no more. Only saving France matters. Next time I see them, I'll have to thank them." Tiger said pacing slightly. "When you get to London, have the divorce papers drawn up and I'll give you an address to send them to in England. Once I've signed them, then we can end this farce of a marriage."

"Divorce? I'll _never_ give you a divorce. You belonged to me then and you're _still_ mine. You _will_ come to London with me whether you like it or not," he said and then yelled. "Colonel Hogan!" Hogan and Newkirk came into the room cautiously watching both husband and wife. "You know how badly London wants my expertise. Make arrangements with them for both Marie and I to travel to London. She goes _with_ me or I don't go at all. Make it happen!" François ordered storming out of the room.


	9. Chapter 9

"Want me to teach him some manners, Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked gruffly, glaring at the retreating back of François.

"No," Hogan answered running a hand over his face. Could this get any worse?

"Oui, many manners," Tiger countered fuming. "I will not under any circumstances accompany him anywhere!"

"No one is asking you too. Just give me a little time and I'll come up with something," Hogan said and started to go after the scientist but was stopped by Kinch calling down the hallway.

"Sir, I just got off the radio with our underground contacts. It's not safe for anyone to move around right now. Everyone is holed up because the SS and Gestapo are out in force searching for François while blaming the Wehrmacht. However, the Wehrmacht are denying any involvement in either the rescue of François or the killing of the Gestapo mole. Fortunately, neither the SS nor Gestapo believes them. So it looks like the distractions are working for now. As far as anyone can tell, the underground is in the clear, but we know how quickly that can change," Kinch explained confused at the looks on the other three's faces.

"Well that's bloody good news," Newkirk said. "Right about now, we sure can use some."

"At least that much is going the way it should. When will London be back on air?" Hogan asked.

"In a few hours, sir," Kinch answered. "What did I miss?"

"François is determined that I should go to England with him," Tiger answered with a scary smirk. Kinch raised both eyebrows wondering if the man had a death wish.

"I want to speak with Butler as soon as possible. In the meantime, I'm going to talk with François alone," Hogan ordered leaving the group going to the back of the tunnels.

* * *

><p>He looked out the window and the camp seemed to be back to normal. Normal? What was that? He half laughed morosely. Things were never normal in this pigpen. And life could never be normal again. <em>Two days ago, he'd awoken to confused commotion in the guards barracks instantly knowing something serious had happened. For half of a groggy moment, he'd hoped that Klink or Schultz had shot themselves in a gesture to save the German war effort. Hastily throwing his uniform on and hopping into his boots, he joined the other poor slobs who found themselves assigned to this backwater sewer. Then he heard it, a guard had been killed. One of the prisoners had finally crossed the line he thought, only to learn the guard had been outside the wire. No matter, it must have been an escaping prisoner. The idiot Klink didn't even order an immediate and full roll call. Instead, he sent Langenscheidt, Mueller, and Schmidt to do barracks checks without waking the prisoners, three more worthless examples of German soldiers. <em>He knew for a fact that they only checked a few barracks instead of the entire camp. Although he couldn't get it out of them, his gut said, no one went near barracks two, too afraid not everyone would have been home.

He glared in the direction of the hut in question, then turning walked slowly to sit back down on his bed. Tears poured out of his eyes, unashamedly. His head buried in his hands, remembering as he heard the name of the dead guard, Corporal Walter Waechter. _He'd run to the front gates, positive they'd been wrong about the name. There was no way he could be dead, no not Walter! He prayed Walter had been the one to find the dead guard, and the guard making the report was mistaken on who had died. However when he saw them carrying him in on a stretcher, it was all he could do to not fall to his knees in overwhelming grief. Instead, he walked alongside the stretcher giving him a soldier's homage. They laid him in the guards' infirmary, and he stood guard over the body. Voices around him were talking, but he couldn't hear them, his eyes transfixed on the face he knew so well. _

_He remembered when Walter was born. He'd been six years old, so proud to be a big brother, which lasted until he realized the new baby got more of his parents' attention than he did. Although he came around quickly, reveling in the role of protecting and tormenting his sibling. They grew up the best of friends and were as close as two men could be. When Germany called for volunteers, it was Walter who convinced him to join. His enthusiasm for Hitler was contagious, so the brothers joined the military together to defend their homeland. When they left home, his mother made him promise to look out for her youngest. He promised her that no harm would come to either of them, secretly wondering how to keep his more zealous younger brother in line. Now his face stared back at him almost as if he were sleeping. He wanted to reach down shaking him, telling him to wake up and quit this cruel joke. _

_Kommandant Klink came in and all the voices hushed. The man appeared horrified at the sight of his dead soldier, and he thought the commander might faint. The bumbling idiot held something in his hand, so he inquired what it was. Klink showed him the button found close to Waechter, a piece of fabric still attached where the button had been ripped from a uniform. But it was a Wehrmacht button, which made no sense. He expected it to be off an Allied uniform. He volunteered to stand guard over the body until the proper arrangements could be made. Klink granted him the request, and finally all the others left the small building allowing him to be alone with his brother. _

_He caressed the side of the stilled face running his hand over the curly blond hair, as his tears flowed for the first time. Holding onto Walter's hand, he broke down into deep sobs. How? How could this have happened? At some point, he gained control over his emotions, taking a close look at the body for clues that would lead to the monster who committed this heinous act. The look of shock on Walter's face indicated he was taken by surprise. Walter was a careful and observant soldier, so he deduced there was more than one assailant. What did Walter see in those last seconds of his life? What did he feel? Did he to cry out for his older brother? No one realized they were brothers, because Walter favored their father, and he favored their mother with deep black hair. He vowed when he found the bastard responsible for Walter's death, the man would feel great pain in the last moments of his life. Reaching into his brother's pocket, he removed the photo of Heidi, Walter's wife of two years. In a recent letter she'd written, they found out that she was expecting their first child. Walter had gone home on leave just before starting this assignment. The baby would be born in a few weeks, but his brother would never know the joy of holding his own child, a cruel irony of this war. They took this assignment to protect Germany so they could raise a family in peace. _

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he stood up from his bed then went over and pulled out the chair from the desk sitting down. Opening the drawer and taking out a notepad and pen, he breathed a gloomy sigh starting his sad task. On the paper, he wrote: Dear Heidi, It is with the greatest of sorrow…

Blinking the moisture from his eyes, he stared out the window once more recalling his meeting with Major Hochstetter yesterday. The Major had offered to pull him out of Stalag 13 so he could grieve properly and help with the manhunt for the Wehrmacht officers, but he insisted on staying. Everything pointed to this being a German military operation gone horribly wrong. Hochstetter believed his brother had come across the two officers who kidnapped the scientist and interrupted their plans. The Major said he was sure that sooner or later, Barrett's body would show up. With the fiasco of the kidnapping, the Wehrmacht couldn't keep Barrett alive without admitting their own guilt in the death of several German soldiers. However, in his gut, he knew somehow that the prisoners were involved in his brother's death. Hochstetter disagreed, but allowed him to stay to complete the mission they'd started since it would take Papa Bear down. He was ordered to listen for any information that might lead them to the missing scientist.

Turning back to the letter, he vowed to Walter that he'd care for Heidi and the baby all the days of his life; after finding and killing the men responsible for his little brother's death. How he'd accomplish that he wasn't sure, but one thing was for certain, he'd have to get Schultz to allow him to be the replacement guard for Barracks Two. And he knew exactly how to make that happen.


	10. Chapter 10

Hogan paced the tunnels trying to determine the best way to deal with François. He let out a mirthless chuckle remembering how François said he didn't require much when he first arrived. Seemed the man required a lot and enjoys throwing his weight around. He wondered how that worked while François was in SS custody. Or was he throwing it around now, because he was under strict control as a prisoner? That Hogan could understand. There were a lot of things he wasn't allowed to do as a POW that he intended upon doing as soon as he was free. However, he knew he wouldn't be demanding his way like François was doing. But then, Tiger said that François had always been controlling. He couldn't put this off anymore and went to find the scientist.

"Colonel, were you able to make the arrangements with London?" François asked as Hogan came into the room.

"They're still on radio silence, but will be on the air later today. I wanted to talk to you about Marie. She is adamant that she will not go to England," Hogan started.

"She's my wife and will do as she's told," François snapped standing up.

Hogan scowled, "She's an adult and makes her own decisions."

"She's a married woman," François started and stopped watching Hogan. "But of course you're correct, Colonel. This is a matter between Marie and myself and doesn't involve you and your men. If I could trouble you to have Marie's stuff brought down here, we'll work out our differences privately. Our customs may be foreign to you, but they are our customs and have worked for us for many centuries. A married woman will always do as her husband sees best. I'd ask that you respect our traditions even if you don't agree with them."

"I do respect others points of view. However, what Tiger does will be up to her. But I'll pass your request along to her," Hogan answered wondering if the man truly had a death wish. He really couldn't be that dumb and blind. It was getting harder to remain civil with the scientist.

"Where does this name, Tiger, come from?"

Hogan hesitated momentarily, "It's her underground code name."

"Underground? That's something she'll have to give up. It's not appropriate work for a married woman. What type of _work _did she do in the underground?"

"Those are questions you'll need to ask her. I'm not at liberty to speak for Tiger. Everything within the underground is compartmentalized, the less you know, the less you can reveal if captured," Hogan answered.

"That I can understand. Will you let me know when London can arrange our departure?"

"You'll be kept informed. It may be a few days, however," Hogan answered then left. He had no idea how to get through to the man for François to understand he had no control over Tiger. And there was no way Hogan would force Tiger to do anything. She was her own woman, who did as she desired. He doubted he'd ever be able to change François's mind, only Tiger would be able to do that and he hoped without violence.

* * *

><p>Olsen leaned against the fence the woodpile backed up to, head down rubbing his bloodshot eyes.<p>

"Are you all right?" A kind voice asked.

"Huh?" Olsen looked up to see Sergeant Pfeffer, a German guard, obvious concern on his face. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look so good. Should you go to the infirmary?" Pfeffer questioned.

"No, I just haven't been sleeping well. The lumpy paillasse isn't the best," Olsen answered with a quick smile.

"I know what you mean. The mattresses we have aren't much better. Mine is so hard that it's killing my back," Pfeffer rubbed his lower back then leaned against the fence next to Olsen.

"Wow, I thought the guards would have better accommodations," Olsen was surprised by the revelation.

"Well, it's much better than I had at the front lines. I'll deal with the hard bed to stay back from the fighting any day," Pfeffer laughed.

"Did you know the guard that died well?" Olsen's task this afternoon was to pump this guard for information. The guard's expression changed at the question.

"Ja and nein, we were bunkmates, but I had no clue he was Gestapo, or I would have told the Kommandant. What's confusing is why he'd be posing as a guard here," Pfeffer appeared slightly bewildered. He pulled out a cigarette pack, taking a smoke out then offering Olsen one.

"Dank," Olsen lit his cigarette. "What was he like as a person? I didn't have much association with him."

"A dedicated German, more so than many of the men around here. Guess we know why now. The sad thing is he showed me a picture of his wife and she's about due with their first child. Regardless of how one might feel about the Gestapo, his wife and baby will suffer. For her, I feel badly," Pfeffer said then inhaled a long drag of his cigarette, holding the smoke in and exhaling it through his nose.

"What a shame," Olsen shook his head then drew in smoke from his cigarette. _Great, just __great. Something __else for me to feel bad about over his death, _he thought blowing smoke out.

"I don't understand what the Gestapo would want with this place," Pfeffer said looking around the compound.

"Does anyone understand the Gestapo at all?" Olsen asked flicking cigarette ashes in the wind.

"I don't know," Pfeffer turned away tossing his butt to the ground. He lit another one. "Why are you not sleeping? You're not up digging tunnels all night are you?"

"Nah, all tunnel digging is done through the daylight hours," Olsen replied with a slight laugh. Pfeffer raised an eyebrow in question. "I'm kidding. Besides, I hate digging. I'm not a gopher."

"It's best to not try an escape attempt especially right now," the guard said seriously.

"Other than the obvious," Olsen gestured with his hands that he was a prisoner and Pfeffer a guard. "Why would you say that?"

"The Gestapo doesn't take lightly to one of their own being killed. So they're out in force trying to find the culprit. Anyone captured outside the wire very likely would end up in their custody. I'm sure that's not something you'd want to have happen," Pfeffer answered tossing his second cigarette butt to the ground.

"Definitely not," Olsen answered, although he was becoming wire happy. He needed to get outside to get his head straight. That's where he did his best thinking.

"Although I understand you wouldn't be comfortable discussing things with me, there are men of your own nationality around. Find someone and try to work out what has you not sleeping. Everyone needs a friend from time to time. And if I can help, I'll be around," Pfeffer said then walked away from Olsen to continue his assigned duties.

"So whatcha think of 'im?" Newkirk asked walking over to Olsen.

"He seems genuinely surprised that Waechter was Gestapo. I think Klink grilled him about his roommate. We can't know for sure yet, but I'd put him on the side of not being Gestapo," Olsen said yawning.

"The Colonel has a job he wants us to do this afternoon that will give us more definite answers. Why would you say Pfeffer's in the clear?" Newkirk asked still worried about his mate.

"He's always been friendly and nice; not overly so that would make me suspicious, but more along the lines of Langenscheidt. How many Gestapo agents do you know that are nice? What's the job?" Olsen asked stifling a yawn as he and Newkirk started moving towards the front of the camp.

"Not too many Gestapo even know the meaning of nice. You didn't get any sleep earlier, did ya?" Olsen shrugged his shoulders. "What are we gonna do with you? If you want to take a nap, I'll handle the job." Newkirk's green eyes showed worry.

"Nothing's wrong with me," Olsen snapped. "Let's get the Colonel what he needs." Newkirk explained their assignment as the two made their way across the compound to Klink's office.

* * *

><p>"General Butler, thank you for taking the time to speak with me," Hogan said over the radio. He'd cleared his men from the radio room for privacy.<p>

"Glad to help any way I can. What seems to be the matter?" the General's voice filtered through the headset.

Hogan explained that François and Tiger were married and neither knew the other was alive. Then he proceeded to say that Tiger wanted a divorce, which François flatly refuses and has ordered Tiger to accompany him to London. Hogan left out the part where Tiger nearly made her own 'divorce' with a knife. "Now, sir, François refuses to leave without his wife."

"Colonel, you come up with some of the strangest predicaments. I don't need to emphasize how much his expertise is needed. It could make a huge the difference in the war. Is there anyway the underground operative would be willing to come to London, so she could go through divorce proceedings? That way they could both have what they want. Who knows, after spending some time together they may decide to patch things up," Butler asked.

"I don't see any amount of time spent together healing the rift in their marriage. It was a shotgun marriage, and the shotgun was pointed at her. I can't and won't force her into a situation that puts her in danger. And frankly, being alone with her husband does put her into a dangerous situation," Hogan answered. Dangerous for both of them and anyone near them when they exploded he thought.

"I see," Butler was quiet for several moments. "We definitely don't want to put either in anymore danger than absolutely required. However, his knowledge of the new rockets makes some risk acceptable. Do what you can, play marriage counselor, try to at least call a truce until you can get them here. Tell the wife, I personally guarantee that I'll introduce her to a top-notch divorce attorney that will take her case for free. See if that will help her to come to London, so everyone gets what is needed."

"Sir, are you sure I can't just storm Berchtesgaden singlehandedly? It would be easier orders to accomplish than these," Hogan answered shaking his head.

"Do what you can," Butler ordered. Then added with a chuckle, "When you finish with Berchtesgaden, let us know and we'll give you a three day pass."

"Yes, sir," Hogan replied and disconnected the radio. He put his head down on the table. The General had no idea how much Tiger meant to Hogan, but he doubted that would make a difference in his orders. How was he going to convince Tiger to go to London with her husband?


	11. Chapter 11

"How is he doing?" Hogan asked climbing up the ladder into the barracks. It had been four days since Carter had been shot.

"I believe I can safely say, Carter has turned the corner and I expect a full recovery," Wilson answered with a joyous smile. "The fever is gone, there's no sign of infection, and his color has improved greatly."

"That is wonderful news," Hogan had a smile of his own.

"I'm glad too," Carter said with a deep yawn. "Problem is all I seem to do is sleep."

"That's all you need to be doing. In a couple of days, we'll let you sit up. For now just rest and keep your leg straight," Wilson replied. Carter mumbled something incoherent as he fell back asleep. "He really is doing remarkably well, sir."

"Thank you. Have Newkirk and Olsen made it back yet?" Hogan asked closing the tunnel entrance subconsciously rubbing his injured shoulder.

"Haven't seen them. I'll be back later to change your dressing unless you want me to do it now."

"No, it can wait until later," Hogan realized he was rubbing the shoulder and stopped.

"Then I'm going to head back to the infirmary. Gotta a couple of patients that need my services," Olsen said packing up his bag.

"Anything I need to be concerned about?" Hogan asked with a questioning look.

"No, sir. Just the normal stuff, too much sawdust in the bread. I'll let you know if it becomes serious," Wilson promised leaving the barracks.

* * *

><p>Tiger was working in Carter's lab when her husband entered the area. "What would Hogan say if he knew you were working with dangerous chemicals?"<p>

Tiger took a deep breath before responding. "Why would he mind?" She didn't look up at François instead concentrating on the compound she was working with.

"I can't imagine he'd be happy to know you're playing around with their supplies," François answered leaning against a post watching her work.

"Obviously you don't know him. He's not the pig you are, and knows women make valuable contributions to the war cause," she threw at him then with an experienced hand mixed a combination of chemicals.

"How exactly did you learn to make W-Salz*?" he asked impressed and horrified simultaneously as the white crystalline began to take shape.

"I needed a skill in case you ever entered my life again," Tiger replied with a dangerous grin. "What do you want?"

"I don't want to fight. I'm curious what you did when you went to Paris. How did you support yourself?" he kept his distance knowing the chemical was safe at room temperature, but Marie had several things that wouldn't be good if thrown at him on the workbench. This was not a side he ever expected to see of his wife and unnerved him.

"For a time I lived with a family until I had a chance to heal from the last beating you'd inflicted upon me. The wife had once fled from a similar situation and helped me to understand it wasn't my fault. Once I was ready to leave, I found employment with an elderly couple. They'd helped many women in similar situations over the years. Due to their advanced age, I was their caretaker until they died. They taught me what real love was between a man and woman." She stopped and smiled at the remembrance. "She died first and within a few hours, his grief took him too. It was equally beautiful and sad at the same time."

"They sound like people I would have wanted to know," he said shifting his weight. Tiger scowled wordlessly, and François swallowed nervously. "I'm sorry you lost them, they obviously meant a lot to you. What did you do after that?"

Tiger was quiet for a few moments as she continued to work on the compound contemplating what to tell him. "A friend invited me to work at a bookstore, where I spent my nights reading and learning. One day while speaking with a scientist with whom I'd become friends, she invited me to work in her laboratory where I learned the appropriate mixture of chemicals to make bombs and other things that has come in handy with fighting the Boche. War was inevitable and she hoped her work would assist the war effort, and it did until France fell. When France surrendered, it was a defeat many of us couldn't accept," Tiger answered.

"Who was the scientist? Would I know her work?" her husband asked with ulterior motives.

Tiger glared at him, she'd never tell him how much Suzanne Lechay** meant to her or her name. Even Hogan didn't know of their friendship, it was safer that way until the war was over. The Germans had Suzanne working on synthetic fuels, but her knowledge was far greater than they realized. Lechay worked in the underground for a long time on the run from the Germans. "What did you do after the fire?"

He didn't want to push his luck; at least she was talking and not throwing things at him. "I stayed at the university and also helped with the war. We'd built rockets that we'd hoped would save the country. Once France was conquered, I was forced into service by the SS. It wasn't a pleasant experience," his eyes lowered to the floor as he subconsciously rubbed a scar on his chest. The story he'd told Hogan and his men about the university being captured was real. At night, he still had nightmares of his friend's death. "At first they forced us to cooperate with the threat of death constantly. Armed guards stood over us to ensure we didn't blow up the laboratories. If we didn't meet their timelines or expectations, then they had no trouble killing one of the workers. I don't know if you remember Laurent, my lab assistant. We were sent to another laboratory closer to Germany about three months after the capture. One day an experiment failed miserably, and the SS officer in charged killed him in front of me. Then they dumped his body into an incinerator like trash to be burned. I don't even know how long I was there, but about a year ago, I was transferred to the facility near Hammelburg. Things were a bit better there; at least they respected the science. My greatest hope was to make contact with the underground, and obviously, that worked out," he explained.

"I'm sorry about Laurent, he was a nice man. Too many people have died and I fear many more shall before it's over," Tiger said.

"I only hope that the Allies can truly put Germany back in its place. I want our home freed from the tyranny. Hopefully in some small way, my work can make that happen. But as you say, many have perished, and many more shall before the end. How did you become involved in the underground?" He sat down on a stool still a good distance from her.

"Out of necessity, and the contacts I had. For a while, I was able to travel with relative ease throughout France then took on other roles as the organization became more defined. As I said, France under German rule isn't something many can accept," Tiger stopped talking concentrating on the explosive she was mixing.

"What do you do for them besides escorting people and making W-Salz? How did you meet Hogan and his men?"

"Those are questions I can't answer. It wouldn't be safe for the underground, me, or even you. The less you know…," she trailed off leaving the sentence unfinished.

He nodded his head understanding. "Is there anyone special in your life? Did you remarry? A beautiful woman like yourself, I'm sure you've had many suitors."

"Non, I've never married again. There is someone but until the war is over it wouldn't be fair to either of us. Now with this complication, we'll have to figure out what to do," Tiger watched him closely. "What about you?"

"I dated some before the war but never found anyone to settle down with. Since France was lost and I've been in SS custody, well there's been no opportunity. It's sad to hear you call our marriage a 'complication'. I know it's not what you want to hear, but I really do love you. You're the only woman I've ever loved, and I hope you'll change your mind and come to England with me."

"Non, that shall never happen. I don't love you and never have. Whatever fantasy you've built up will have to end. Our marriage was nothing more than a cruel charade, a way for my father to pay off his debt," Tiger said forcefully.

"What about your family, do they know you're alive? Did your father die thinking you were gone?"

"I couldn't contact my family, it wouldn't have been safe. Papa had been dead for a long time before I heard. Most of my brothers had followed into our father's footsteps, except for Etienne. I ran into him in the underground, he'd been in the Army and when it was disbanded became an active member in the underground. We see each other occasionally," she answered.

"How cruel of you to allow your poor father to believe you died in such a manner. That's why he died, drank himself to death over the grief," François threw out standing up moving close to her.

"He was a drunk long before he thought I'd died. I was not responsible for the choices he made," Tiger's eyes blazed.

"Your brothers are alive because of my generosity and I paid handsomely to ensure their safety. No matter what you think you were included in that deal and will do as you're told," he grabbed her arm roughly.

"Let go of me," Tiger demanded hitting him with her free hand. He backhanded her forcefully causing her to fall to the ground hitting her head on the stool.

* * *

><p>*W-Salz was an explosive used by both sides during WW2, more commonly known today as RDX. Similar to TNT but yielded a higher explosive rate. W-Salz was the German code name used for RDX. http:  de dot wikipedia dot org/wiki/Hexogen (take out the spaces)

**Episode Hogan and the Lady Doctor


	12. Chapter 12

Hogan entered his office after Wilson left the barracks, closing his door. LeBeau was watching over Carter and would let the Colonel know when Olsen and Newkirk returned from their assignment. Tiger was downstairs in the lab making an explosive for one of the underground units she worked with, and he needed some time to figure out what to do regarding General Butler's orders. Should he even tell Tiger what the General proposed? He was under orders and had never blatantly disobeyed before. But this concerned the woman he loved. He knew he'd talk to her but he didn't want her to go to London. Who knew if she'd ever be able to come back before the war was over? He sat down on his lower bunk rubbing the bridge of his nose. He loved her that much was all he knew for sure. And he accepted her explanation for not explaining more about her life before they met. There was a lot about him that she didn't know for the same reason. A close friend had once told him that there are things, in all our pasts, that would alter perceptions of each other. Some of these may come to light, and some will go unspoken forever. I only hope, when we're confronted by these revelations, we don't forget the trust and bonds we've worked so hard to forge.* As torn as he was about the marriage, it didn't change his feelings for Tiger. His moral compass wouldn't allow him to date or be involved with a married woman, and to the best of his knowledge, he hadn't broken that rule until now. Part of him felt guilt over his involvement with Tiger, and an equal part of him said he'd done nothing wrong. The war inside of him was tearing him apart. He had no idea how to resolve the inner conflict.

He stood pacing the length of the room and then turned continuing to pace. The General's proposal did have merit; if Tiger went to London then she could get her divorce and be free to live a life with Hogan if that's what she wanted to do once the war was over. It was selfish to keep her here just to be with him, he had to look at what was best for Tiger. That choice made his heart ache, because he knew the possibility that he'd never see her again. Being in England wasn't any safer than being in Germany or France. As far as that went, her work with the underground put her in great risk of being caught and executed after ruthless interrogations. Most underground members don't live more than a few months; yet somehow, Tiger had beaten the odds and made it over four years in the organization. However, there were no guarantees in this war that either of them would live through it. His head was beginning to ache as much as his heart. Going to London would be the best choice for her personally. At least if she was killed there, then he knew it wouldn't be at the brutal hands of some Gestapo or SS personnel. Tiger was like him and determined to influence the outcome of this war and he knew that she'd personally made a difference so far. Would she even accept taking a step out of the frontlines? Only Tiger could make that decision, but he wanted her safe. In his heart, he knew if she asked him to do the same thing and take a step back from the fighting he'd have to say no. It wasn't in his character any more than it was in hers. That was part of the reason he loved her. Only Tiger could make this decision and he'd support her either way. The side of him that said he'd done nothing wrong was gaining ground due to his love for the woman. He rubbed his hands over his face realizing the General was right; somehow, he always found himself in the worst predicaments.

Olsen and Newkirk came into the Barracks knocking on Hogan's door. "Sir, we have the files photocopied," Olsen said breaking the Colonel out of his thoughts. Hogan opened the door to let them in the room.

* * *

><p>Kinch, Baker, and Reynolds were walking by Carter's lab when they saw François hit Tiger. Kinch grabbed the scientist by his shoulders, swung him around, then hit him with a hard punch that sent François flailing backwards landing on his arse. Kinch knelt down next to Tiger who moaned slightly but showed no signs of consciousness.<p>

"I'll get Wilson," Baker said taking off in a fast run down the tunnel.

"Tiger! Tiger, can you hear me?" Kinch asked moving her slightly straightening out her body. He pushed the stool away from her head. She didn't respond.

"Stay down," Reynolds said to the scientist standing over him with his arms crossed. François looked up at him through the stars that were blocking his vision and complied. He didn't have the ability to stand if he wanted just now.

A moment later, Wilson, followed by Baker, came running into the room, "What happened?" Tiger was just beginning to regain consciousness. "Hold still, let me check you out," the medic said.

Tiger blinked at the brightness of the light in her eyes from Wilson's penlight and pushed it away. She tried to sit up and Kinch placed an arm under her gently sitting her up. "Owww," she said holding her spinning head.

"How many fingers do you see?" Wilson asked waving three in front of her face.

"I'm not sure, they're all blurry," she replied. "François will pay for this!"

"I've already taken care of him," Kinch said.

Tiger turned to see the prone figure lying across the room. "You hit him for me?" Kinch nodded his head yes. "Thank you, mon ami." Tiger had a satisfied look upon her face.

"Let's get you upstairs," Wilson said and Kinch helped her to stand up. "What about him?" Wilson indicated to the scientist who hadn't moved.

"He's not your concern," Kinch responded then turned towards the other men. "Keep him under guard until the Colonel decides what to do with him."

"Don't worry, he's not going to cause any more trouble," Reynolds promised hauling the scientist to his feet. The coldness in his voice made François fearful.

"What happened?" LeBeau asked worriedly as Kinch and Wilson helped Tiger upstairs. He knocked on the Colonel's door urgently. It opened immediately.

Hogan took in the scene; the red raised mark imprint of a hand on Tiger's face was all he needed to know exactly what happened. "Where is he?" he demanded, fury showing.

"Under guard," Kinch replied helping Tiger to the lower bunk in Hogan's office.

"Sir, someone is going to need to stay with Tiger for a while," Wilson said stopping Hogan in his tracks, which was the medic's intention. He knew Hogan might do something he'd regret later in his current state of mind.

Hogan's overwhelming urge to beat the scientist into a bloody pulp was overridden only by his concern for Tiger. "How is she?" he asked kneeling beside the bunk.

"I'll be okay," she replied with a weak smile.

"A slight concussion, but she'll be all right in a day or so," Wilson replied. "LeBeau, would you get us some ice?" The Frenchman took off without answering to complete his task. Wilson pulled out two aspirin from his bag handing them to Tiger along with a glass of water.

"Merci," she said taking the medication. "I will kill him for this!"

"Tell me what happened," Hogan asked sitting on the edge of the bunk. Tiger gave the highlights of their conversation and how enraged François had become when she disagreed with him.

LeBeau came back with the ice pack and Wilson placed it on Tiger's face. "Use this. It'll help with the bruising. I'll be by later to check on you." He and the other men left the small room closing the door.

"I'm sorry," Hogan started, worry shining through his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault. Il est un cochon sale!" Tiger spat out.**

"I promised you that he'd never hurt you again, and I wasn't able to keep the promise."

Tiger placed a hand on Hogan, "You have never broken a promise to me, mon amour."

Hogan reached over brushing an errant strand of hair out of her face. "I'm going to take care of the troublemaker. I'll be back in a little while."

"I'll come with you," Tiger said starting to sit up.

Hogan placed a hand on her shoulder keeping her down, "Rest."

"What will you do?" she asked slightly concerned. She wanted to be the one to handle François, and feared Hogan might get into trouble if he wasn't careful.

"London never said he had to be comfortable here. If he gets to them in shackles, they still get him," Hogan said with an edge to his voice.

"Don't do anything that will get you in trouble. Promise me!"

"I promise you that François will never have the ability to hurt you or anyone else again, while he's here," Hogan said determinedly then leaving the room. Outside in the common room he asked with eyes ablaze. "Where is he?"

* * *

><p>*Quote from Poltergeist the Legacy<p>

** He is a filthy pig!


	13. Chapter 13

"Down in the tunnel with Baker and Reynolds, sir," Kinch said watching Hogan closely.

"Newkirk, get that film developed. Olsen," Hogan hesitated studying the man. "Olsen, take a nap."

"I'm fine, sir, I don't need…," he snapped, angrily.

"That's an order, _Sergeant_," Hogan's tone and face made Olsen back down. "LeBeau, stay up here with Olsen and Carter. Kinch, let's go see Barrett." Hogan went to the bunk bed entrance and slammed his hand against board making the entrance open. He and Kinch went below followed by Newkirk.

"Brian, I have something that will help you rest," LeBeau said mixing coffee and alcohol in the same cup.

"I don't need anything," he started until LeBeau added a bit more alcohol to the mix. "Well, you do make interesting coffee," he grinned taking a long drink of the beverage.

"Perhaps you should lie down and finish your coffee," LeBeau suggested. Olsen started to refuse. "You don't want the Colonel to come back up and not find you in your bunk."

"Maybe you're right," he said sitting down on his bunk finishing off the drink in another long drink. Within a couple of minutes, he was fast asleep. Reaching down, LeBeau took the cup, then covered the sleeping man up knowing Olsen would definitely sleep due to the third ingredient that he had snuck into the cup suggested by Wilson; one small sleeping pill. Olsen hadn't slept a wink since killing the Gestapo agent several days ago, and everyone could tell how much he needed rest. Perhaps some sleep would help him put things in perspective when he awoke.

* * *

><p>Kinch and Hogan made their way through the tunnels to the guest sleeping quarters where François was being held. The scientist was pacing the small area with Baker and Reynolds still standing guard over him.<p>

"Colonel Hogan, that man hit me unprovoked and I want him brought up on charges," François said, angrily pointing at Kinch.

"You may not know this, but Kinch is a professional fighter. You're lucky that I don't walk away," Hogan's voice was dangerously low.

"Feel free to walk away, sir," Kinch said making a fist and hitting his other hand.

"I'm responsible for all Allied personnel in this camp including everyone in the tunnels. I don't allow violence, especially with key members of the underground. Why did you attack Tiger?" Hogan demanded, angrily.

"I don't know what this man told you, but Marie and I were having a conversation before he barged in," François's voice was equally dangerous.

"The bruise on her face says differently," Hogan countered.

François took a deep breath before responding, "It wasn't what it looked like. She fell and I was just trying to catch her. Talk to Marie, she'll tell you the same thing."

"I have spoken with her, and that's not the story she tells," Hogan crossed his arms getting very tired of the spin the scientist was trying.

"Allow me to talk to Marie and we'll resolve any perceived indiscretion between ourselves privately," François demanded.

"Any further communication between the two of you will be with an escort. I will not have anyone hitting a woman in my domain. Is that understood?" Hogan ordered his command face firmly in place.

"You have no right to dictate how a husband and wife communicate," François retorted.

"You lost all rights to be alone with her once you hit her."

"I see," François turned away attempting to get his anger under control, but fury could still be seen in his face. "Colonel, what do you plan to do about this man hitting me?" he pointed at Kinch again.

"Kinch, did you hit the professor?" Hogan asked never taking his eyes off François.

"No, sir. He tripped and fell into my fist as I was helping him up," Kinch answered.

"Obviously you were mistaken," Hogan replied to François.

"We'll see what London has to say about it. These two were witnesses," François gestured in the direction of Baker and Reynolds.

"Gentlemen, did you see Kinch hit anyone today?" Hogan asked not looking in their direction. "No, sir," both answered. "Just what I thought. A misunderstanding. Until further notice, François is to be guarded at all times." Hogan put his finger in François's face. "Get out of line one more time, and we have a cell you'll find yourself locked in until you leave. London wants you there, they didn't say how. If you prefer shackles that is definitely an option. Do I make myself clear?" Hogan demanded.

"Colonel, obviously there is a difference of opinion on what is acceptable behavior. Please tell Marie, I would like to speak with her," François replied, his tone condescending.

"The message will be relayed." Hogan turned towards Baker and Reynolds ordering, "He's not to be left alone. Both of you will need to be present for roll call so make the necessary arrangements."

"We'll take care of it, sir," Reynolds replied.

Hogan left with Kinch alongside of him. Out of range of their guest, Hogan stopped and punched the wall. "You have no idea how badly I wanted to knock that arrogant bastard on his ass!"

"I can imagine, sir," Kinch said standing behind his commanding officer. "I think you controlled yourself admirably."

"Hitting a woman, especially someone you profess caring about, can a man get any lower?" It was a rhetorical question that Kinch didn't answer. "If he thinks he can do anything else, I'll lock him up in a heartbeat."

"It might not be a bad idea. Sir, there are some things I need to tend to, unless you need me for something?" Kinch knew Hogan needed time alone right now to regain his composure. Hogan dismissed him with a wave of his hand and Kinch disappeared down the tunnel.

Hogan paced the length of the tunnel trying to reign in his anger. A wife beater was the lowest form of scum in the free world in his eyes, and François had crossed a line he could never retreat from. Despite what Tiger said, Hogan felt as if he'd failed in his promise to keep her safe from that scumbag, and that was not a failure he'd repeat. He walked until it was near time for roll call, then headed upstairs.

Schultz came in just as the tunnel entrance was closing. He shielded his eyes as the bunk bed shut into place. "Colonel Hogan, please don't do that when I'm here!"

"Then you're going to have to give us more privacy, knock and wait to be admitted," Hogan said looking around to make sure everyone had come up already. Kinch, Baker, and Reynolds were sitting at the common table.

"What if it had been the Kommandant and he saw that?" Schultz asked slightly alarmed.

"Klink wouldn't have made it through the door, if the entrance was open," Newkirk said with a smirk.

"How?" Schultz asked confused.

"Do you really want to know," Hogan asked hooking his thumbs into his jacket pocket.

"Nein! I know nothing, but please don't do it in front of me," Schultz pleaded.

"All right, we'll do our best so that you don't see anything you shouldn't," Hogan promised.

"Danke. It's time for roll-call everyone outside," Schultz bellowed.

"Olsen won't be coming out with us tonight," LeBeau said standing near the stove.

"Why? Is he gone again?" he looked over relived Olsen was sleeping in his bunk. "Is he sick?"

"He's finally getting some sleep, and we're not waking him up," LeBeau said, determinately. "He's here and you can count him, but he's not going to be in the lineup."

"But the Kommandant insists. Any man in camp unless he's on the sick list has to attend roll call," Schultz protested. His eyes lit up as LeBeau produced a biscuit.

"What the Kommandant doesn't know won't hurt him. You can honestly report everyone is present and accounted for. Unless you want Tiger to stand in line," LeBeau handed him the biscuit.

"Nein! The Kommandant can't know she's here. How long will she be here?" Schultz looked back at Hogan while taking a bite of the biscuit.

Hogan shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know yet, a few more days."

"I don't want to interfere with your personal life, just make sure the Kommandant doesn't discover she's here again," Schultz shoved another bite into his mouth, then turned to Carter. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Tomorrow Wilson will let me sit-up for the first time," Carter answered with a big smile.

"Good. Then you can come out to roll-call soon. Everyone outside before the Kommandant comes looking for us!" Schultz ordered and the men started filing out the door into their respective spots. "If the Kommandant every discovered what goes on inside this barracks it would be worth all our lives!"

"Don't you mean your life," Hogan asked.

"Nein. You don't think I'd go down alone, do you?" Schultz shoved the last of the biscuit in his mouth.

Hogan shook his head no thinking that maybe they'd been to causal around Schultz too. He'd talk to the men about it. Coming in from roll call, Hogan closed the door. "LeBeau, why didn't Olsen make it outside tonight?"

"He couldn't sir. Wilson's orders and a sleeping pill. He'll sleep all night," LeBeau answered.

"Ahh, that's probably a good thing. I'll be in my room if anyone needs me. Goodnight gentlemen," Hogan said. He heard goodnights from the men as he closed his door. Sitting down next to Tiger, he watched her for a moment noticing her having a nightmare, so he caressed the side of her face. She quieted down quickly. "Don't worry; I'll take care of François. He won't cause any more trouble." He bent down kissing her on the forehead then climbed to the top bunk falling into a fitful sleep himself.

* * *

><p>He snuck into Klink's office in the middle of the night without turning on a light picking up the phone calling for backup. "I need your help sir," he said when the phone was answered.<p>

"What do you need?" Hochstetter asked, listening to the request. "Do you have anything else to report?"

"I believe Sergeants Carter and Olsen were somehow involved in the events. Carter has a mysterious injury from that night that can be exploited. Olsen has been acting like a man with a guilty conscious, so it won't take much to push him over the edge. He's already starting to slip. Once I get inside Barracks Two, they'll both give up Papa Bear before the week is over."

"You've done good work. If that's all it'll take to take down Papa Bear, then I'll buy an entire cake. Meet me at the rendezvous site tomorrow and I'll bring the best piece of chocolate cake in Germany."

"Dank sir," he said disconnecting the phone. Sitting on the edge of Klink's desk, he smiled calculatingly. This would be one of the last nails in Hogan's coffin. Chocolate was Schultz's weakness and the bribe would get him assigned to the Barracks. Hogan's coffin, he snorted. Once they were finished with him, Hogan wouldn't get a coffin. He'd be dumped in a hole with the rest of the vermin, and Schultz could be tossed in next to the American Colonel. If Olsen and Carter were involved in killing his brother as he suspected, then the Sergeants wouldn't be as lucky as their commanding officer.


	14. Chapter 14

François paced through the length of the tunnels, he didn't understand Hogan. Why would the man come between a husband and wife? Something more was going on that he had to figure out, then it occurred to him. Marie had said there was someone special; perhaps that someone was here in the camp. Because she was staying in Barracks Two, he deduced that this person must have been living in that barracks. His first thought was LeBeau because he was the only Frenchman in the barracks. Since Hogan had ensured he wasn't left alone, he asked the man guarding him. The guard laughed and told him no, but wouldn't say if someone in the barracks was dating his wife. However, the refusal told François that he was correct, which left about ten men in the barracks which he had to investigate. He quickly dismissed Kinch, Baker, Reynolds, and Miller because of their color. Hogan, he thought about him for a moment, deciding Marie wasn't the type of woman Hogan would tolerate for long. She didn't know her place. Newkirk, however, was always around Marie, quick to defend her. Tomorrow, François would need to have a long talk with the Englander about stealing another man's wife.

* * *

><p>"Colonel Hogan," Klink called him out after the men had been dismissed from morning roll call. "Why is Sergeant Carter not in roll call?"<p>

"He had a serious leg injury, sir. He can't stand still," Hogan replied, wondering why it took so long to have this conversation.

"How did he get hurt?" Klink demanded. Schultz was listening closely standing near the Kommandant.

Hogan decided he'd better use the same lie Schultz believed. "In a cave-in of the tunnel that we were working on, it was a total loss, sir."

Klink rolled his eyes. "Stop these lies. There are no tunnels in Stalag 13! Now I want the truth."

"Yes, sir," Hogan looked appropriate chastised. "He was playing ball, fell, and has a nasty cut. If he stands on it, the wound will reopen."

"See, now was that difficult? Why you come up with these wild stories I'll never understand. I want Sergeant Wilson's report on Carter in my office this morning!" Klink left stomping off riding crop swinging under his arm.

"Colonel Hogan, was the tunnel a complete loss?" Schultz asked worriedly when Klink was out of earshot. Kinch was standing next to the Colonel.

"Why do you ask?" Hogan raised an eyebrow.

"I thought perhaps if it was to the officer's food pantry, you might need some supplies to shore up the walls," Schultz said.

Hogan's eyes narrowed, "How did you know that?"

"LeBeau said something about being able to cook better meals soon," Schultz's eyes sparkled. He wasn't as dumb as he played.

"He said that?" Kinch asked shaking his head in surprise.

"Ja. In the armory, there is extra wood that needed a place to be kept, a few beams, and plywood," Schultz said.

"Why are you telling us this?" Hogan asked, cognizant that they recently had a Gestapo mole in camp.

"There is a spot in the middle of the floor that I try to avoid, because it groans when I step on it. I don't investigate, and wouldn't want to fall through the floor breaking a leg," Schultz replied. "However, if that spot no longer creaked and LeBeau started cooking really good food there would be nothing for me to investigate." Schultz turned leaving the Americans alone.

"If Schultz ever turned on us…," Kinch didn't finish his thought.

"We'd have no choice but to kill him. I think he knows that," Hogan said seriously watching the retreating German. Kinch looked at his commander in shock. "Hopefully that day will never come. See to it that the armory tunnel entrance is reinforced, and take whatever of the supplies we can use. I'll talk to LeBeau."

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied following Hogan into the barracks.

* * *

><p>After breakfast, Hogan called Olsen into his office.<p>

"Sir, I want to apologize for my disrespect yesterday. It won't happen again," Olsen stood in front of the bed with his hands behind him, feet shoulder width apart.

"I need to know why it happened," Hogan said standing in front the Sergeant, his arms crossed.

Olsen took a deep breath, "I'm not sure."

"That's not good enough," Hogan ordered; his command face firmly in place.

"I don't know what you want me to say, sir."

"Why don't you start with why you haven't been sleeping?"

Olsen looked down clearly distressed about the subject. "I…I just haven't been able to fall asleep, sir."

"Sit down," Hogan indicated the chairs at his desk, pulling them out the two men took a seat. "Does this stem from killing the Gestapo mole?" he asked gently, leaning forward.

"I guess, sir," Olsen couldn't meet Hogan's eyes.

"What made this kill different from any of the others?"

"I honestly don't know, sir. It wasn't the first time I've killed an enemy soldier, and definitely not the first time I've killed one up close and personal. It doesn't make sense to me," Olsen answered.

Hogan studied him for a moment before replying. "Lack of sleep makes everything seem worse and harder to sort out. Even though you slept last night with the aid of a sleeping pill, I'm considering sending you back to bed. You look like you need another twelve hours of rest."

"Please don't, sir. I need to be awake to get a handle on it. My head is a lot clearer today, and I'm supposed to take my watch with Carter this afternoon. I don't want to let anyone down," Olsen pleaded.

Hogan leaned back running a hand over his face thinking through the options. Carter was definitely stronger and would start moving around today. He knew that Newkirk, Carter, and Olsen had a bond that just might allow Olsen to figure out what the problem was. "Do you feel guilt over killing Waechter?"

"No, sir. It was him or Newkirk. And I sure didn't want to end up in one of Major Hochstetter's interrogation rooms," Olsen's eyes were sure of that fact.

Hogan nodded his head, "All right. I need to see some serious improvement today or tonight you will take another sleeping pill. I'll talk to Wilson, and on his recommendation, you might take one anyway. If you're unable to come to some resolution today, then you and I will go through it tomorrow. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir. I'd just prefer it not be another twelve-hour sleeping pill. It was hard waking up for roll call," Olsen requested.

"LeBeau gave you a four-hour pill. Your body took over and did the rest," Hogan informed him.

Olsen's eyes enlarged, "I didn't realize."

"You're dismissed. And if there's anything you want to talk about remember I'm available," Hogan said with a gentle smile.

"Thank you, sir," Olsen left the office.

Hogan was worried, hoping that Olsen could make sense of the incident today. Most things fell off of Olsen, and why this was sticking to him had to be resolved. Hogan had enough other headaches that required his attention, but somehow he'd find time to spend with the young man if needed. As Tiger entered the room, he knew it was time to tackle another issue, Butler's request.

"Is everything all right?" she asked closing the door behind her.

"I hope so. Thank you for giving me the time," he answered looking at her bruise.

"I understand your obligations. Is there anything I can help with?" she sat down on the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better. I know it looks bad, but it doesn't hurt," Tiger tried to reassure him.

Hogan seriously doubted that, but Tiger was a lot like him, neither gave into pain easily. "If you need something, Wilson will be by in a little while." Tiger nodded her head in understanding. Hogan took a deep breath before delving into the conversation he didn't want to have. "Yesterday I was able to speak with General Butler."

"What did he have to say?" Tiger's interest was piqued.

"They really want François's expertise and the research on the new rockets he's been working on. The consensus is that it'll make a difference in the war effort," Hogan stopped taking a deep breath before continuing. "He asked me to talk to you about accompanying François to England. Obviously, that was before his serious breach of morality. However, the General did make an offer I think is only fair that you hear. He said that if you come to London then he'll make sure you're able to get a divorce and be rid of François once and for all."

Tiger didn't respond immediately, she sat thoughtfully for a few minutes then uncrossing her legs stood up. Hogan watched as she moved towards him, enjoying how her hips swayed. She put her arms around his neck, standing impossible close to him. "I'll escort him to England," she said seductively with a smile that made Hogan nervous.

He cleared his throat trying to keep his mind on the topic, and not the way his body was reacting to having her so close. "They want him there breathing and in one piece."

"What fun would that be?" Tiger pouted sticking out her lower lip.

"I'll tell the General that François will be traveling alone," Hogan said. He met her lips in a deep kiss. He wanted her, but knew he couldn't with François below. The way she melted into his arms, it took all his will power to not pick her up, lay her on the bed making passionate love to her.

Their kiss broke and Tiger leaned her forehead against his, "I suppose I should go see if Kinch can make contact with the underground." Her breath was as quick as her heart rate. She wanted to stay in his arms, but pulled herself away.

"I have some things to take care of also," he said. "I'll come down in a while." Tiger left and he sat there trying to calm his raging hormones down before leaving his office to do his normal duties.

* * *

><p>A couple of hours later, Hogan went downstairs looking for Tiger.<p>

"Thank you, Snow White," Kinch said signing off the radio.

"What did you find out?" Hogan asked entering the radio room.

"They have finalized the plan for destroying the bridge, and have information that a panzer division will be moving through the area tomorrow. I will take them the explosives today, and hopefully some of the Boche will be killed on the bridge when it blows," Tiger said with determination.

"It sounds risky," Hogan frowned.

"Oui, there is always risk. But the explosives can be set tonight with a timer. No one should be in the area when it blows," Tiger walked with Hogan to Carter's lab to gather the supplies.

"How long will you be gone?" he gently brushed her hair back looking deep into her eyes.

"A couple of days. I need time to think about what to do about François. Do you know when the sub will be able to pick him up?" Tiger put a hand on Hogan's chest moving closer to him.

"Hopefully by the end of the week. With the SS and the Gestapo still on the prowl, it's too dangerous to move him right now. Promise me you'll be careful out there."

"I promise," she reached up and kissed him tenderly. "Remember, I have my get out of Gestapo custody free card with me."

Hogan looked confused raising an eyebrow, "Do I even want to know what that is?"

"Non," Tiger's eyes sparkled.

"Just be safe," he took her into his arms kissing her deeply.

* * *

><p>Unbeknown to them, François had slipped past his guard on the hunt for Newkirk to confront him about Marie. Instead, he saw Tiger and Hogan in the laboratory. Anger flooded his veins. So it was Hogan who was trying to steal his wife. He backed away so neither Hogan nor Tiger would know he knew about them. Making his way to the tunnel's armory, he took out a luger and hid it in his jacket. Hogan would pay dearly for his transgressions. He needed Hogan to get him out of the country, however, there were things he could do. If he put up enough of a fuss, he knew Hogan would take him to his rendezvous site to meet up with his next contact to start his journey to the submarine. At that time, Hogan wouldn't be protected by his men. That's when François would kill him making it look like an SS killing.<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

Wilson pealed the bandage off of Hogan's shoulder wound. "It looks good, sir."

"It itches," Hogan said trying to sit still. Although he'd never say anything, he hated having bandages replaced and always had been that way since childhood.

"That's means it's healing," Wilson check the injury for signs of infection. "How's the pain level."

"Decreased immensely. It's just annoying now."

"Looks like it will heal properly, and I doubt you even have a scar from this one." Wilson cleaned the wound. What the Colonel called annoying most men would say was painful.

"How's Carter doing?" Hogan asked

"Impressively well. That airdrop saved his life. I doubt he'd be with us if we hadn't received the medications to stabilize him after so much blood loss. I'm letting him sit up in his bunk, and in a couple of days, he'll be able to move around a little more. Earlier I delivered the medical report to Klink describing the injury as Carter fell on a stick that went deep into his thigh. He seemed to accept it as plausible. I asked him if he wanted to come see for himself since I needed to change the dressing. For a half a second I think he really considered it; then our fearless Kommandant decided against it when I told him how the flesh was torn out from the invading object. He did authorize me a can of sulfur powder to stave off infection, which of course I took and put in the stash of medicines," Wilson applied sulfur powder on Hogan's wound.

"You're getting good at coming up with explanations," Hogan grinned.

"Had enough practice, wouldn't mind not needing to exercise that particular skill so much. In that spirit, I checked out François after he fell into Kinch's fist. Wanted to make sure the brain cells that might help with rockets weren't permanently injured. Although he had a raging headache, there was no concussion. Gave him a couple of aspirin, but told him that was all I could spare," Wilson finished applying a new bandage. "Would you like some aspirin? We really do have plenty."

Hogan started to decline then changed his mind taking the pills. There was enough going on that he didn't need the distraction of his shoulder hurting. The aspirin took the edge off and let him concentrate on things which were more important. "Need to talk to you about Olsen. That was a good call asking LeBeau to slip him a sleeping pill. I was about to order him to take one. We spoke earlier and I gave him today to figure out what's causing him so much distress about the situation. It's never easy taking a life, so I expect some amount of trouble while he deals with it, but this has gotten out of hand. Any suggestions on how to handle it?"

Wilson placed his supplies back in his bag. "I'd be happy to talk with him. Honestly, I don't think it's battle exhaustion*, but instead the incident is reminding him of something he doesn't want or can't bear to face again. Whatever the original incident was, he didn't deal with it when it happened, and now it's coming back to haunt him so to speak. Since this is out of character for him, my recommendation is that he doesn't leave camp until it's resolved. Although he looks better, he still needs more rest and if we have to force him into that sleep, I have no trouble sedating him."

"Don't worry he's grounded and won't leave the camp until he's back to normal. If he's unable to sleep tonight, I'll order him to take a sleeping pill."

"Olsen is good at hiding things, and convincing you that nothing's wrong, almost as good as you are. Watch for the subtle signs that he can't hide. If in doubt, it won't hurt him to get another good night's sleep," Wilson said.

"Thanks, that's what I needed to know."

"Where is Tiger?"

"She's gone to town and will be back in a couple of days," Hogan replied, walking Wilson out the barracks.

* * *

><p>Tiger opened the door to the apartment she was staying in in Hammelburg. She placed the explosives in a secured hiding spot then went to the kitchen, filling the teapot and placing it on the stove. Next, she undressed and took a hot shower. One thing she missed while staying at Stalag 13 was the ability to bath appropriately. She couldn't use the showers there and had to resort to a bucket and water, which worked but a hot shower was always her preference.<p>

After dressing, the teakettle signaled the water was hot and she made a nice cup of tea. Taking it to the bedroom, she sat down on the bed. When she left with Hogan a few days ago, they didn't make the bed. It still held his smell. Picking up the pillow, she held it close inhaling him. Hogan was unlike any man she'd ever known, and the complete opposite of her husband. He didn't judge her and accepted her even with her stigma. She'd only ever told one other man, and he thought she was less than a woman and broke off their relationship. When Hogan learned, he held her close and said he was sad for her loss, but it didn't change how he felt about her. That's when she knew her heart could be complete again. Her mind wondered back to the awful time that took away her very womanhood.

* * *

><p><em>France 1937<em>

Marie hated her life, she'd had such high hopes, and now it all seemed impossible. She loved school but François decreed she didn't need any more education to be a housewife. She longed to attend the university and study science. The best she could do locked in the house was to read his textbooks on engineering, mathematics, and chemistry. He would ridicule her saying she'd never understand what she read. However, she did understand most of it, but kept that knowledge to herself. She learned how to make explosives from ordinary household chemicals and thought it would be a way to escape from the hell her life had become. For weeks, she quietly gathered the supplies she needed to blow the door off their apartment and escape. But then news came that made her think she'd never escape. She was pregnant. Barely seventeen years old, how would she support herself and a baby? Just her, she could live on the streets until she found another way, but she couldn't do that to her child. François was over the moon about the pregnancy, but Marie was fearful of the type of father he'd be. He thought nothing of hitting her for any perceived misconduct. She couldn't allow that to happen to her child, but had no idea how to stop it. The tiny life growing inside of her terrified her for the future. She had no one to turn to and her family was no help. Her mother had died in childbirth and her brothers were as useless as their father was. Childbirth terrified her, she was eight when her mother died and she'd been in the birthing room. She could still hear the way her mother screamed out in pain, and see all the blood that came gushing out as her youngest brother, Troy, was born. Her mother never got to see him; she died within minutes of his birth. Would the same thing happen to her? She shudder thinking of François raising a child. She felt so helpless and alone.

François was working in the living room as she went down to do the laundry and hang it out to dry. A stranger came into the building, he asked Marie for directions then left. Marie carried her basket of clothing upstairs. François came out demanding to know what they talked about, but didn't believe her when she told him. They were standing on the landing between the first and second floor. He became so enraged that she spoke to another man that he backhanded her. Marie fell down the stairs landing on the first floor unable to move due to the pain. The landlord came out of his apartment to find out what was going on and knelt beside her. François came down saying that she'd fallen taking the laundry upstairs. Fortunately, the landlord helped get Marie to the hospital.

The next day she awoke in severe pain, François sitting at her bedside. The doctors and nurses thought he was such a caring husband never suspecting the truth. That's when she was told the news, she'd lost the baby. Even worse, she'd never be able to have a child because the fall had damaged her uterus so badly they had to remove it. Marie cried for weeks broken hearted. François ridiculed her for being clumsy and inept as to lose their baby. He wanted an heir, and often took his rage out on her in the form of beatings. When he started his affair with the woman upstairs, Marie felt immense relief. He would leave her alone on the days he had sex with Juliet; she began to pray they had sex daily.

* * *

><p>Tiger shivered pulling herself out of the memories. Her scar was where they removed her ability to have children and it caused her deep shame and remorse. She always wanted a houseful of kids, and now even more so. She thought she and her mon amour would have made beautiful babies. Now François may have even managed to damage her chance at love with Hogan, and she couldn't let it happen. Her gut said that François was hiding a dangerous secret and she knew how to find out what it was. Putting the teacup down, gathering up the undergrounds supplies, Tiger headed out determined to find the truth out about François.<p>

* * *

><p>He snuck back into Stalag 13 doubting anyone even knew he was gone. Major Hochstetter came through and now he had a huge slice of chocolate cake with which to bribe Schultz. The cake was delicious and it was a shame to feed it to a traitor. However, if it got him to be the new guard in Barracks Two it was worth it. Soon he'd be able to avenge his brother's death.<p> 


	16. Chapter 16

Carter was sitting up on his bunk, a pillow under his injured leg. Olsen sat on the other end of the bunk, his right leg curled under him and the left hanging off the edge. Newkirk was facing them sitting on the bench from the table dealing a hand of cards. They were the only ones in the hut, which Newkirk had ensured.

"You have no idea how good it feels to do something besides lay down," Carter said taking his cards and organizing them in his hand.

"I'm sure it does," Olsen picked his cards up.

"Haven't had a chance to thank both of you for going outside the wire and getting the drop from London," Carter started.

"No need to thank us, you'd done the same for either of us," Olsen said discarding a card.

"Were you scared out there?" Carter asked.

"Only when Waechter was pointing a gun at me. I couldn't believe he was Gestapo and we didn't 'ave a clue," Newkirk answered, shuffling his cards around picking up what Olsen discarded.

"Yeah, can't leave Newkirk alone for a minute or he finds trouble," Olsen teased.

"That's for sure," Carter winked at him.

"You buggers! That's not true," Newkirk groused. "There's been plenty of times when you've been in trouble."

"Usually cause you're along. Admit it, you're a trouble magnet," Carter said with a sly grin.

"Yep," Olsen agreed nodding his head.

"You're both barmy," Newkirk griped. Carter and Olsen laughed good-heartedly. "If I was the only one scared out there, then why aren't you sleeping?" Newkirk looked pointedly at Olsen.

"Hey I slept last night," Olsen defended himself.

"After LeBeau spiked your drink," Carter countered.

"Yeah, but you should have seen that coffee. He put about a third of a cup of coffee then finished filling the cup with Schnapps. Mmmm…it was good," Olsen said, licking his lips.

"So why aren't you sleeping?" Carter asked.

Olsen looked down picking at Carter's blanket, "Just can't fall asleep."

"Why not?" Newkirk questioned.

"My eyes just keep popping open."

"What do you see when you close your eyes? You have to see something; they just won't pop open if you weren't. I mean they could, but it would be weird and if that's what's happening, you need to talk to Wilson. I bet that would be some sort of medical miracle or something," Carter stopped, realizing he was babbling.

Olsen smiled; it felt good to hear Carter babble on about anything. The barracks had been too quiet with him so ill. "I keep seeing Waechter."

"What about 'im?" Newkirk asked; although concerned for Olsen, inside he was smiling too at Carter getting back to normal.

"I don't know," Olsen suddenly felt embarrassed about the situation.

"Close your eyes," Carter instructed.

Olsen took a deep breath and then a second one, finally closing his eyes. Seconds later, they flew open. Olsen started to hyperventilate.

"Hey, it's okay," Newkirk put a hand on Olsen's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Olsen said, ashamed dropping his hand of cards.

"Don't apologize for anything but that hand. Blimey, I'm glad we didn't let you play it out," Newkirk said picking up the discarded cards.

"Every time I close my eyes I see him dead," Olsen said.

"How did he die?" Carter wanted to know.

"Broke his neck," Olsen answered, almost too quickly.

"Don't think I could ever do that. What's it like," Carter questioned.

"Like breaking a branch in two, they go fast. It's my preferred method. Simple, quiet, fast, and effective," Olsen took a drink of his coffee wishing it was schnapps instead.

"Never thought about having a preferred method," Newkirk shook his head. His own preference was not to kill.

"You have to remember, I'm out there alone a lot of the time. Yeah, sometimes Kinch backs me up, but not usually. If I find myself in a situation where my only way out is to take someone down I will. If it's avoidable I'll do anything feasible to avoid it, but this is war. And killing enemy soldiers is what we're trained to do. Gunshots can bring all sorts of unwanted attention; it's the same with a knife and all the blood that leaves behind. Breaking a neck can let me get out of there and sometimes it's hours or days before they know something is wrong," Olsen defended himself.

"No one is questioning what you have to do," Newkirk assured him. He shook his head, "I just never thought of it that way."

"If I have to kill, I prefer to use my bombs. That way I'm hopefully nowhere near when they go off," Carter stated. "And I get bad dreams from the detonations sometimes and I don't even see the aftermath. So I can only imagine the dreams you have. How many times have you had to do it?"

"More times than I even want to figure out; if I'm lucky the body's not found until the next air raid. Don't want to leave a trail for the Gestapo to get a wind up about. But why this one is different, I can't figure out," Olsen straightened his bent leg out that was going to sleep on him.

"You say you see Waechter. What do you see about him?" Carter knew the answer would be in that image.

"His face and his eyes, over and over again," Olsen blew out a deep breath.

"What specifically about them?"

Olsen thought for a moment before answering Carter. "I guess the shock on his face. He never saw it coming, and his last expression was utter shock."

"I guess I was too far away in the dark to see his expression, but he didn't know you were there until you were on him," Newkirk said thinking back to that night.

"His eyes," Olsen didn't finish the thought, looking down.

"You see one pair of Nazi blue eyes you've seen 'em all," Newkirk declared.

"They weren't blue, but green. Very shocked green eyes…like Paul's eyes," Olsen stopped taking a large gasping breath. Realization began to dawn on him.

"Who's Paul?" Carter asked, after he and Newkirk exchanged puzzled looks.

* * *

><p><strong>1935 Detroit Michigan<strong>

"How did you manage this? Wow!" Brian Olsen said to his best friend as he got out of a new car.

"Pops said we could use it to go to the lake tonight," seventeen-year-old Paul Ranger replied. "Did you get the beer?" Olsen showed him the box filled with alcohol, "Sweet!" Paul's father was an executive at Ford Motor Company while Brian's father owed a liquor store.

"Elizabeth's cousin, Alice, will be there, and I think you'll like her. She has fiery red hair," Olsen explained climbing in the car. The two teens made their way to the lake for a summer party that lasted late into the night. School would start the following week, where they'd be seniors this year.

They meet up with the girls and a large group of other friends enjoying the teenage party. About two in the morning, the boys drove back to town. Brian hadn't had as much to drink as Paul, but he didn't know how to drive so Paul got behind the wheel. Talking and laughing, neither paid much attention to the road.

"Hey, wanna see how fast this goes?" Paul asked stepping on the gas pedal.

"Yeah, let's go faster," Brian urged as they soared past sixty miles an hour, both boys laughing, enjoying the feeling of freedom.

Paul pushed the car to its limit as they came to a bend in the road. Unaccustomed to the speed, he wasn't able to compensate for the curve, and the car rolled down the embankment. Brian was thrown from the car landing in the marsh unconscious. Coming around, he slowly felt out his body determining nothing was broken, but everything hurt. He rolled over looking up at the stars breathing through the waves of nausea not knowing whether it was from the accident or the alcohol. Paul! His mind started working, where was Paul? He stood up on shaky legs looking around for the car finding it had come to a stop right side up about thirty feet away. He got to the car as quickly as he could, opening the passenger door. Paul was lying against the steering wheel with blood coming out of his mouth and chest.

"Was wondering where you went off too," he panted out.

"How bad are you hurt?" Brian asked trying to figure out what to do. He'd never seen anyone in a car accident and his own head was woozy.

"Not going to make it," Paul said quietly.

"Nonsense, of course you're going to be okay," Brian countered trying to stop the blood flow from his friend's chest.

"No, can't believe I'm dying tonight," were the last words Paul spoke. Brian had never seen death before; the shock on Paul's face overwhelmed him and he turned and vomited out the door.

* * *

><p>"I passed out right afterwards; the next thing I knew it was dawn and someone was pulling me out of the car. For weeks, I couldn't close my eyes without seeing Paul dying in my arms," Olsen explained.<p>

"Man that's rough," Newkirk shook his head sadly.

"We grew up together and had it all planned out. Our senior year, college, the rest of our lives, everything…," Olsen wiped away a tear.

"I'm sorry," Carter said leaning forward putting a hand on Olsen's shoulder.

"I put it behind me and hadn't thought of Paul in a very long time," he scrubbed both hands over his face.

"The shocked look Waechter had must have reminded you of your friend," Carter did his best to hide a yawn of fatigue.

"Yeah, I guess so," Olsen agreed suddenly feeling and looking very tired.

"I've a suggestion. Why don't both of you get some rest, it'll do you some good," Newkirk said picking all the cards up laying them on the table.

Both men agreed, Carter lay down and Olsen moved to his bunk turning and facing the wall. Remembering his childhood friend, tears overwhelmed his eyes, and soon grief and exhaustion took over pulling him into sleep. Four hours later, Olsen suddenly sat straight up in his bunk, "Paillasse!" There was another Gestapo mole in camp and he now knew who it was.


	17. Chapter 17

Early in the evening, Schultz walked through the camp, trouble on his mind; he didn't know what to do. The conundrum presented was making his head hurt. The chocolate cake was absolutely delicious, but the price he had to pay for it might be too steep. There was only one person with which he could discuss the situation.

"Hey Schultzie," LeBeau greeted the guard as he entered the barracks. "Have you been seeing another chef behind my back?" LeBeau stood with his hands on his hips.

"What do you mean?" Schultz looked confused and a tad guilty.

"There's a chocolate stain on the front of your coat," LeBeau pointed to the offending spot.

"Oh, one of the guards shared some cake with me and it was good. Not as good as yours of course," he backtracked watching LeBeau's face. "Colonel Hogan, may I speak with you?"

"What's up?" Hogan had one leg on the bench hands resting on his leg. Kinch, Olsen, and Newkirk were sitting at the table. Olsen closed the folder they'd been looking through.

"I need some advice on a personnel issue," Schultz requested.

"That sounds like something you need to discuss with Klink," Hogan put his leg down standing straight. He had enough going on and didn't want to get involved in an inner Kraut issue.

"For me to discuss it with the Kommandant, then I'd have to tell him about the tunnels and the monkey business. So I thought that perhaps you could help me instead. Please," Schultz pleaded.

Hogan took a deep breath, his body language changing immediately. "Step into my office." He closed the door behind them, leaning against the bedframe, while Schultz paced the small room. "What can I help you with?"

"I'm very careful with which guards I allow near certain barracks, this one in particular. One of my guards, he seems to be a good man, but I've never completely trusted him. Sometimes he's a little rough in his language about the prisoners, but no prisoner has ever made a complaint. Personally, I think, we're all the same, and people should be treated with respect. I make sure the guards know that no disrespect will be tolerated," Schultz said obviously in distress.

"I'm grateful for everything you do for the prisoners," Hogan replied watching the guard. "Why are you so concerned about this guard?"

"There's nothing that I can point to and say that proves what my gut tells me. Today he brought me a big piece of cake. It was wunderbar! After we ate it, he asked for a favor. He wants to be made a night guard for this hut. I told him I have to think about it and look at the schedule, but it's the way he's pushing. I don't know what to do, Colonel," Schultz held his hands up then let them fall to his side.

"Which guard are we talking about?"

"Sergeant Pfeffer."

Hogan crossed his arms thinking as he paced in front of his bunk. "You should agree to his request, but instead of a night guard make him a day guard. Tell him you'll see how it goes for a few days."

"You want him here?" Schultz looked very confused. "If he saw the tunnel entrance, he wouldn't hesitate to tell the Kommandant. Then look at what would happen. No, no, no, I think I should tell him no."

"Let him be the day guard and we'll check him out. If there's something for you to be worried about, we'll find it out. If not and he's not the right type of guard for this area, then you can move him back in a week or so."

"Are you sure?" Schultz asked again.

"Positive," Hogan gave him a reassuring smile.

"Okay, I'll have him start here tomorrow," Schultz wasn't completely convinced but was willing to trust Hogan.

Hogan walked him out the barracks with a hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry, we'll get to the bottom of it." Once the guard had left, Hogan turned back to his men. "What did you find in the personnel file?"

"It seems the Pfeffer was stationed on the Western Front before here, so maybe it's not unusual that he picked up a few French words," Olsen said pushing the file towards his commanding officer.

Hogan reviewed the information before speaking, "I think you hit the nail on the head. Pfeffer is most likely Gestapo. He's been pushing Schultz to be assigned here as a guard, even bribing him today with chocolate. Schultz will move him here tomorrow, and while Kinch and Newkirk are going through his room, the rest of us will keep him busy. Tonight we need to ensure nothing is around he can find, and no tunnel access while he's on duty. We treat him as Gestapo until we know more. Any questions?" Hogan commanded looking around at the men.

"Sir, if you can get him in here, I'll keep him talking until they have a chance to go through his room. I mean, I can talk about anything for a really long time," Carter grinned.

Hogan hadn't realized he was listening to the conversation. "If you're up to it tomorrow, feel free to keep him talking." Hogan smiled inwardly that Carter wanted to participate. "You have your assignments, get busy."

* * *

><p>François had a reprieve from constantly being under surveillance since Tiger had left camp for a few days. Even though someone was always close by, no one was blatantly staring at him. He asked where Tiger had gone but wasn't told, keeping what he'd seen and overheard concealed. He was even more determined that the type of work she was doing would come to an abrupt end once he got her to London. Marie still insisted she wouldn't go with him, but he wasn't giving up. At least she wouldn't be able to get a divorce without his permission, and that meant at some point she'd have to come to him. All he had to do was separate Marie and Hogan then she'd have no one and nowhere else to turn, which is exactly what he planned to happen, when he killed the arrogant American. Hogan's men had shown him how easy it was to place misdirection when killing a man, and he had just found the perfect place to find that misdirection.<p>

Walking around the uniform room, he found both Gestapo and SS uniforms and either would work for his purpose. Hogan's operation was more extensive than he'd realized as he perused the uniform rack covering the entire span of the German military.

"Can I help you with something?" Murrell asked coming up behind him.

"I've lost a button on my shirt, and was hoping to find something to replace it with," François said with a smile.

"The extras are over here," he led the way to the corner with supplies. "Can you sew?" his tone was condescending.

"Yes, I can," François answered pompously looking through the box of buttons; not voicing his belief the Corporal was another arrogant American. Murrell stared icily at him. "Is there a problem?"

"I have no use for anyone who hits a woman," he stood arms crossed. François started to say something, but Murrell cut him off. "Don't give me that crap that cultures are different. My family is French, and there's no way any man in my family would ever treat a woman in such a manner. That includes my family living in France. Take what you need then get the hell out of my domain!"

François glared back snapping, "What makes this _your_ domain?"

"It's none of your business, but I'm the head tailor in camp. My family has made men's clothing in France for nearly three hundred years for kings and statesmen. And they'd be appalled by your behavior too. Here," Murrell tore off an appropriate amount of thread, threading it through a needle then handing it to François. He turned walking away in disgust.

François took the needle and thread along with a button out of the box, then he pocketed an extra button that Murrell didn't see. The more he learned about the Allied soldiers in camp the less he cared for them. When he got to England, it couldn't be any harder to make contact with the German underground than it was the Allied underground, and expose this whole miserable operation. He left the sewing room smirking and thinking through the possibilities.

* * *

><p>The next morning as Schultz oriented Pfeffer to the occupants of Barracks Two, Newkirk and Kinch made their way to Pfeffer's room in the guard's barracks.<p>

"Where do you think we should start?" Kinch asked as Newkirk unlocked the door.

"I doubt he'd keep anything incriminating somewhere obvious," Newkirk answered as he opened the door and both men went inside. Newkirk started going through the closet while Kinch took the desk.

Kinch pulled out the desk drawer, on top of a writing tablet was a picture of Waechter and his wife. "Now why would he keep this?"

"They were roommates. Perhaps as a memorial?" Newkirk shrugged then started feeling around the inside of the closet for hiding spots.

Kinch opened the tablet trying to detect left over depressions of anything that had been written on the missing paper to no avail. He put it aside going through the other contents of the drawer finding nothing of interest. Next, he looked for secret hiding places with no luck.

"If he's got something, it ain't in 'ere," Newkirk made sure the closet was in the same condition he found it then moved over to the nightstand.

"Or here," Kinch answered then lay down on the floor to inspect under the bed. Not finding anything, he checked under the mattress.

"That only leaves the footlocker," Newkirk made quick work of the lock going through its contents. "Not a bloody thing. Could we be wrong about him?"

"I don't think so," Kinch held up two silver Gestapo warrant discs* and identification cards**, the only credentials undercover Gestapo were required to carry. As he read the names aloud, both eyebrows shot upward.

"They were bloody brothers?" Newkirk gasped, realization dawning on both men about how dangerous the situation really was.

* * *

><p>* http:home dot comcast dot net/~donbible/

** http:/germanmilitariacollectibles dot com/blog/2009/04/gestapo-id-other-half-of-story dot html


	18. Chapter 18

Newkirk and Kinch made sure to leave Pfeffer's room exactly as they'd found it, locking the door behind them as they left, going directly back to the hut. Pfeffer was sitting on the bench facing Carter's bunk as Carter was explaining the finer details of making fishing lures. Both looked up as Kinch and Newkirk entered the building.

"Hey guys, Sergeant Pfeffer is a fisherman too. We've been exchanging tips," Carter said with a huge yawn.

"Carter's quite proficient in fishing lures, but perhaps he should get some rest now. I have some things I should do before I get in trouble with Schultz," Pfeffer said standing up then quickly leaving.

"He's been trying to get out of here for half an hour. What took so long? Did you find anything?" Carter asked after the German had left the building.

"He's definitely Gestapo," Newkirk said sitting down by Carter.

"I thought so by the way he was fishing for information. He tried a subtle interrogation but he didn't get anything," Carter answered smirking.

"Where's the Colonel?" Kinch asked looking around.

"In his room," Garlotti responded hopping down from his bunk taking door watch.

Kinch knocked on Hogan's door, opening it when granted an 'Enter'. "Sir, we have proof."

Hogan walked out into the main room, Kinch handed him the identity discs and paperwork. "Brothers? Oh, he has to go today, before he tries to get revenge for his brother's death."

"That's what we were thinking sir," Kinch said pouring a cup of coffee.

Hogan turned the disc over carefully studying them, a slight grin appearing on his face. "A Gestapo get out of jail free card."

"Sir?" Kinch asked, as he and the others looked confused.

"Something Tiger said. Garlotti and Olsen, go keep our friend busy. Newkirk and Kinch need to get into the tunnel," Hogan ordered and both men left to carry out their assignment.

"What are we doing, Gov'nor?"

"Photograph these and take down anything you need to duplicate them. The information may come in handy," Hogan answered.

"Yes, sir, I understand what you're thinking and it's brilliant," Kinch replied taking the items heading underground. If they could duplicate them, it might come in handy for future assignments.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Hogan walked up to Schultz who was sitting on a bench under a large tree watching the men in the compound.<p>

"Can I help you, Colonel?" Schultz asked, moving over so Hogan could sit down.

"You were right to bring your concerns over Pfeffer to me. It turns out he's really Gestapo, just like his brother Waechter was," Hogan handed him the identity discs.

"Gestapo," Schultz gasped looking at the discs. "How did you find out?" Hogan gave him a look that said he really didn't want to know. "No don't tell me. I have to inform the Kommandant. What do I tell him about these?" he held the metal like it was a snake.

"That you were suspicious, so you searched his room and found them hidden under the mattress. If you want, I'll come with you," Hogan offered. He wanted to ensure Klink did what had to be done.

"Ja, please," Schultz stood slowly ambling along to the Kommandantur. With an uneasy look, he knocked on his commander's door waiting to be admitted. "Herr Kommandant, I…I have something to report."

"Schultz, can this wait? I have a lot…," Klink stopped midsentence seeing the morose look on both men's faces as Hogan closed the door. "What happened?"

"Herr Kommandant, I was suspicious…of a guard…and searched his barracks. I found these," Schultz placed the items on the desk.

Klink went pale as he examined the documents. Having a guard killed was bad enough, but then to find out he was a plant by Hochstetter unnerved the Colonel. Now, he had another plant? His mind was having trouble processing the information. Swallowing hard before speaking, Klink looked up with enlarged eyes. "Which guard?"

"Sergeant Pfeffer," Hogan told him. "It appears that the dead guard and Pfeffer were brothers. He's been asking a lot of questions. Questions that could cause trouble."

"Why are you even here on this?" Klink asked defensively. Schultz started to say something but Klink waved his hand dismissively. He didn't need it rubbed into his face that his lead Sergeant felt more comfortable with the enemy than him. "What type of questions?"

"The usual Gestapo stuff. Have you ever given information to the prisoners about the German war plans? Normal things they ask," Hogan shrugged his shoulders.

"They know I'm loyal in Berlin!"

"Berlin might, but does Hochstetter believe it? He wouldn't even have to report any actions he took until afterwards when he was ready to file a report. Who knows what he might decide to do out of jealousy of your great record. Plus Pfeffer is looking to pin his brother's death on someone in camp. If he were able to do that, then the Gestapo could arrest anyone they wanted." Hogan went in for the kill. If he could rile Klink up enough then he wouldn't back down if Hochstetter wanted to leave the man in camp.

Klink stood showing his aristocratic pose puffing out his chest. "We'll just see what Berlin has to say after I make my report on Hochstetter. Everyone knows it was the Wehrmacht who killed Waechter. He should be spending his time looking for the real killers not wasting time and resources in the most secure camp in all of Germany! Schultz, arrest the Gestapo mole and throw him into the cooler until Hochstetter comes to get him."

"Jawohl," Schultz saluted before leaving the office. He knew exactly which cell he'd place the man in, and would have a guard stand watch until they could get rid of Pfeffer.

"What are you still doing here?" Klink threw at Hogan.

"I was hoping to watch you in action when you called Hochstetter. It's not often one gets to see amaestro at work," Hogan replied enthusiastically.

Klink smiled smugly as he picked up the phone, waiting for the connection to Gestapo headquarters. "Major Hochstetter, you may pick up your other spy at your convenience."

"What are you talking about?" Hochstetter angrily replied with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Sergeant Pfeffer or should we call him Lieutenant Kleer? He's waiting for you in the cooler. You should know by now that I know everything going on in this camp. Nothing escapes me!" Klink said with exaggerated importance.

"Then why did it take you months to discover they were in your camp?" Hochstetter asked, cursing that the job had gone awry with no positive results.

"I let them stay until they gave themselves enough rope to hang themselves. Come get your man, or I'll have him on the next train to the Russian Front!" Klink demanded before hanging up. Looking up at Hogan, he added with a smirk, "Hochstetter will be here within the hour. We'll be rid of Gestapo presence in camp once and for all."

"I do say you handled him masterfully, sir," Hogan said.

"Thank you. Dismissed," Klink ordered. Hogan gave him a semi-sharp salute leaving the office glad that Gestapo headache would soon be over. All new guards in camp would have to be vetted much more carefully.

* * *

><p>"Take your man and keep out of my camp," Klink ordered as Schultz escorted Pfeffer into the office an hour later.<p>

Hochstetter glared at the Kommandant. "If you knew what was going on in this camp, you'd be asking for the help!"

Klink stood with an air of supremacy, "I know everything that happens in Stalag 13."

"So you know that Sergeants Carter and Olsen were involved in the death of my brother and decided to keep that information quiet?" Pfeffer questioned accusingly.

"Of course they weren't! That's the most ridiculous allegations I've ever heard," Klink said indigently.

"What proof do you have?" Hochstetter asked, hoping something could be salvaged and Hogan arrested.

"Carter was mysteriously injured the same night Walter was murdered. It won't take much of a real interrogation to get a full confession. The man talks non-stop," Pfeffer answered confidently.

"There's no mystery to his injury. He was playing ball, fell, and landed on a stick, which punctured his leg. It's all in the reports," Klink said.

"I saw him fall that's exactly what happened," Schultz spoke up. Hogan might not be telling the truth about what happened to Carter, but he promised that they had nothing to do with Waechter's death. Schultz wanted to believe him, had to believe him. Besides, it was obvious that Carter had been shot, and there was no gunfire exchanged in Waechter's death. The other monkey business, he knew nothing!

"An examination by a doctor would tell the truth about the incident," Pfeffer insisted.

"You are questioning the word of my most trusted loyal guard on some wild goose chase instead of trying to find the real killers. I will not stand for it," Klink was outraged.

"How do you explain Olsen?" Pfeffer threw out.

"Obviously you weren't an observant guard for being here several months. Sergeant Olsen is a frequent guest in the cooler. He gets wire happy and makes an escape attempt every few months. I'm aware of his recent activity and we've already thwarted his most recent escape plot before he had the opportunity to carry it out. A few times, he's made it outside the wire, but usually he's caught before he can get that far. There's never been a successful escape from Stalag 13, and there never will be," Klink boasted.

"I know there's more to it than he's telling, Major," Pfeffer contended, turning towards Hochstetter.

"If this Olsen is such a problem prisoner then we'll take him off your hands," Hochstetter said with a wicked grin.

"He's not a problem; we know how to handle men like him. There's no need for the Gestapo to be concerned over one enlisted man. You would do better talking with the Wehrmacht to find out why your man was killed," Klink ordered.

"Do not tell me how to run an investigation!" Hochstetter growled.

"Then take your man and get out of my camp. If I ever find another Gestapo mole in Stalag 13 again, I'll put him on the next train eastward bound," Klink promised.

"Bah!" Hochstetter yelled stomping out of the office. Schultz handed Pfeffer a duffel bag with his personal belongings packed, glad to see the man leave. "We will find who killed your brother, and you will have your revenge."

* * *

><p>"What do you think, sir?" Kinch asked unplugging the coffee pot.<p>

"When Klink gets riled up, he can act like an officer. I'm impressed. At least that's settled, now all we have to do is get rid of François," Hogan answered. The sooner the better, he hoped without any more incidences. But when did anything ever go easy for them?


	19. Chapter 19

Tiger climbed into the emergency tree truck entrance and down into the underground maze below Stalag 13.

"Welcome back," Kinch greeted her smiling as she exited the ladder.

"I knew you'd come back to me," François said, smirking.

Tiger rolled her eyes, "Actually, I'm glad you're still here. What I have to say concerns you. Kinch, could you secure this and tell Colonel Hogan I need to speak with him?"

"Sure thing," Kinch took the backpack leading the way. "Everyone is down here."

"Mon ami, you look so much better than before I left," Tiger said giving Carter a hug as they entered the radio room.

"Thanks, it's my first trip downstairs since I was shot," Carter beamed at the attention.

"Then I think it's good you're here to hear this," Tiger's eyes flashed dangerously at her husband.

"What did you find out?" Hogan asked, trying not to show how glad he was that she was back. He didn't want François to know about their relationship until Tiger was comfortable with the idea.

Tiger stood in the middle of the room pacing back and forth, her hands on her hips, as she made long strides around the room. Newkirk and Hogan's eyes found each other sharing a knowing look at how Tiger's stance reminded them of when she found out François was alive. She took several more turns before coming to a stop in the middle, eyes blazing. "Much, beaucoup." She took a deep breath to help control her fury. "There was no reason for Carter or you to be shot," she looked Hogan directly in the eyes. A quizzical look went across his face asking the non-verbalized question. "François could have walked out of the building and met you anywhere in town on any night. The elaborate escape plot was never required," she faced her husband shaking slightly from the adrenaline rush running through her body.

"What are you saying? Of course, I couldn't. I was a prisoner," François was defiant.

"You are a collaborator!" she threw out with more rage than most of the men had ever seen from her.

"Lies! That's nothing but lies and utter nonsense!" he cursed her in French. "You don't know what you're saying. I am as loyal to France as anyone in this room is. I will not be disrespected in such a manner."

"I knew there was something wrong with you, and your story smelled," LeBeau threw at him.

"How did you find this out?" Hogan asked, extremely upset at the thought. His injury, he wasn't that concerned with, but nearly losing Carter for no reason didn't set well with the Colonel.

"He's been seen in town without guards coming and going all hours of the day and night," Tiger turned watching her husband wrathfully.

"Every time I was in town, I was under guard!" François indignantly paced the room.

"A driver isn't a guard," Tiger threw back at him.

"I don't know where you're getting this information but it's all false!" François's face was red with fury, his heartbeat rising with his voice.

"Do you have any proof?" Hogan asked his voice icy cold as his eyes bore into the scientist.

"Oui. Did you not think it was strange that he didn't have his paperwork ready, even though he knew when you'd be there?" Tiger asked.

"There wasn't time, the shooting started and we ran out," François retorted coldly, his arms crossed coming to a stop a couple of feet from Tiger.

"He's right. We were only there for a couple of minutes and the guards started shooting. I thought they found out that we'd taken out the machine gun nest," Carter said, thinking back to the gun battle.

"They had been warned trouble might happen soon. Plus all the paperwork was still in his lab, as if he intended to work on it the next day. He never planned upon removing it. The bag Kinch is holding contains the plans for the rockets and his research notes. London doesn't need you anymore," Tiger said glaring at him.

"As I explained, the underground operative told me that you'd be coming the next night. Of course, I couldn't gather the material up a day before the rescue. They do daily searches and if I had the documents too early, it would have alerted them something was going on," François declared. "The Allies need me and my knowledge; the paperwork is just a bonus."

"Which France are you loyal too? The real France or the Vichy Government?" LeBeau demanded.

"There's only one real France," François replied spitefully.

"Yes, there is, but you didn't answer the question!" LeBeau said becoming more upset. "You're responsible for Carter, and le Colonel being injured. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"As tragic as it was that they were injured something good came out of it. Have you forgotten the two Gestapo spies that were discovered? What do you think would have happened if they found the proof of this operation instead of you learning about them first? Plus I did everything I could to force London to send the medications to save the young man's life. That proves where my loyalties lie," François asserted.

"Why we oughtta take care of you right here," Newkirk pulled his fist back. Kinch put the bag on the table ready to join in pummeling the scientist into the ground. Olsen stood right beside Newkirk ready to take the man down.

"Calm down everyone," Hogan ordered in his best command voice, stepping in front of Newkirk and Olsen. Tempers were flaring but the men backed away from François to obey the Colonel.

"How did you get that material out of the SS facility?" François demanded, his mind trying to come up with the next best lie for the situation. He didn't bring any material in case the 'rescue' went wrong, and he could claim he'd been kidnapped and not be in any trouble with the SS. If he'd been recaptured, he'd made a grand show of thankfulness to Colonel Von Eisenberg, the local SS Colonel in charge of his project. How Tiger found out he was a collaborator, he needed to determine. Laurent, his lab assistant, was killed because François reported that he sabotaged a project trying to delay any progress. At the time, it looked like the Third Reich was going to win the war; François was determined to be on the winning side at any cost. The only reason he wanted out of Germany now was because he could see the writing on the wall and the Axis was going to lose the war.

"That I will never tell you," she had satisfied look on her face.

"Colonel Hogan, you know yourself from the operation you run, what something might look like from the outside doesn't always paint an accurate picture of the reality of the situation. How can you listen to this nonsense, obviously Marie's been deceived," François argued.

"You're the one trying to deceive," Tiger spat out.

"Were you able to contact Rapunzel?" Hogan asked. Tiger shook her head yes answering silently that was where the information came from. Rapunzel was the agent who made all the arrangements with François and Hogan for the rescue. He was a trusted underground member, above reproach. "With the evidence presented, I'm going to let London sort out your loyalties."

"There's nothing to sort out! You're taking her side because you're sleeping with my wife! Lust is clouding your judgment," François took angry steps towards Hogan to stand between Tiger and the Colonel. Hogan's men closed in protectively.

"Our relationship is none of your business," Tiger said in a dangerous voice spinning François towards her.

"How could it not be? In case you've forgotten, you still belong to me! I bought you and you've not fulfilled your obligations yet. We're leaving for the submarine tomorrow night and I expect you to be ready," François commanded then stomped off towards the back of the camp.

"That man has a real death wish, doesn't he?" Kinch said watching the retreating back of the scientist.

"Why do you say that?" Carter asked slightly bewildered by the incident.

"The way he talks to Tiger shows no respect," LeBeau answered, his hands balled up into fists. "Let's teach him some respect. No one owes another human being."

"Hold it," Hogan ordered. "As he said in less than twenty four hours, he's leaving, without Tiger of course. Everyone needs to calm down. We'll let London sort him out. Kinch, get on the radio with the underground and tell them that François is to be considered untrustworthy and needs to be under guard for the trip."

"I volunteer to go as a guard," Newkirk said.

"Oui, so do I," LeBeau jumped in.

"Count me in too," Olsen agreed.

"Thanks for the offers, but the underground can handle him. Let's take a look at the documents, and determine the best way to send them," Hogan ordered opening the bag as Kinch tapped out the message to the underground.

"You will not send them at the same time as _him_?" Tiger asked, a bad taste in her mouth.

"That's what I need to determine. If something happens and he doesn't make it, it might be safer to send them a different route so London gets at least one of them," Hogan answered. Tiger continued to pace around the room obviously still agitated. He watched her for a few minutes, but when it seemed she wasn't calming down he put a hand on her shoulder asking gently, "Are you all right?"

She softened the look on her face, seeing Hogan's concern. "I knew he was untrustworthy, but even I was surprised to learn he was a collaborator. After what Rapunzel told me, and speaking with a couple of others from town there is no doubt. I will not go to England with him, but I would like some time to speak with him alone." Seeing Hogan's apprehension, she added with a gentle smile. "I promise it's only to talk. After tonight, I will most likely never see him again and there are some things I'd like to say privately."

"One of us can be close by," Hogan offered. All the men chimed in offering to stand lookout.

"Merci, but for this I need the privacy. Don't worry, I promise to not kill him unless he gets out of hand. London might get some use from him. Even if he's just used as target practice for the new missiles," Tiger said. "I'll be back soon," she squeezed his hand then turned leaving the radio room.

"Colonel," Newkirk asked permission to follow without verbalizing the words. Hogan denied his request as he turned opening the documents up.

* * *

><p>François paced the back of the tunnels raging ready to explode. How dare a woman, <em>any woman<em>, but especially his wife stand in the way of his very survival. Him surviving the war was his top priority and if others had to die for that to happen que c'est la guerre. He didn't believe that Hogan would actually send him to England now. If the situation was reversed, François would kill Hogan and then run off with Tiger and no divorce would stand in their way. In his mind, the two men weren't that different, so François had to do whatever was required to save his life. Making his decision, he turned heading towards the middle of the compound when he heard Tiger calling his name.

"Have you decided to leave your lover and come with me to London?" he asked sarcastically.

"I'm glad you know about Robert and me, so you can see how well he treats me. He's a true gentleman, not a pig like you," Tiger's anger showed in her body language and the bite of her tongue.

"What do you want?" he asked crossing his arms looking around for any guards; pleasantly surprised to learn they were truly alone. This part of the tunnel rarely had any traffic, which made it a nice place to find solitude.

"I want to know why."

"Why what?" He moved to stand right in front of her, an idea forming in his head.

"Why you turned on our homeland? And why the charade of needing a rescue?" Her hands were on her hips defiantly. She couldn't forgive him for Hogan and Carter's injuries.

"You act all high and mighty calling yourself a Tiger, but you're nothing more than a mangy alley cat eking out a mere existence like you were before we married. And you have the audacity to give it away to the filthy American right under my nose, but yet you deny me, your husband! Would your _gentleman_ approve, if he knew what you do when he's not around? Or does he send you out to whore around knowing that's all you're good for? The only way you would have gotten that material out of the facility would have been on your back. You have a debt to pay and you will give me what's rightfully mine!" he sucker punched Tiger in the face knocking her to the ground dazed. Before she could scream or fight him off; he tied his handkerchief tightly around her mouth cutting into the corners of her lips, then bound her hands with his scarf dragging her behind the wall to an offshoot that was a dead end. He took her knife out of her boot tossing it across the room, "I'm going to enjoy this thoroughly. Every time you make love to _your gentleman_, you'll remember my face and this lesson. You will always remember what it feels like to have a real man." She struggled to get away kicking at him, fury showing through her eyes; he slapped her with a full swing of his arm, making her head swim. For a moment, she was unable to struggle. Savagely taking advantage of her inability, he straddled her, ripping her sweater, pulling her skirt up, pinning her legs open.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N I want to thank ColHogan for all her help on the fight scene.

* * *

><p>Olsen whistled going over the blueprints that were in the knapsack Tiger had retrieved from the SS facility. "This is good stuff," he spread the papers out on the worktable.<p>

"His notes indicate what worked and what didn't in the trial phase," LeBeau translated the French for the others. The men poured over the material knowing what a difference it would make in the war effort.

Kinch looked over at Hogan who seemed lost in his own world. He hadn't said anything since Tiger had gone to talk with François. "Colonel, should we ask London for a courier plane for these?" Hogan didn't respond, which had the radioman concerned. "Sir?" Kinch tried again. All the men shared a knowing looking, understanding where the Colonel's mind had wondered off too.

"Go through this stuff. I'm going to check on Tiger," Hogan said laying down the paper he'd been holding for ten minutes without reading. He made his way back to the living area, but it was empty. Tiger asked for time to speak with François alone, and out of respect for her privacy, he let her go without an escort. However, after she exposed the man for a fraud, he didn't know how François would react, but Hogan's gut said he should make sure everything was all right. Exhaling deeply, Hogan decided to continue his search of the areas where they had empty tunnels that were seldom used since François seemed to like the area. As he got closer to one of them and glanced inside, his blood ran cold as he felt his heart drop into his stomach at the horror that met his eyes.

Continuing to rip Tiger's clothing, Francois glared with an animal lust at the exposed soft flesh. "After you've learned your lesson, I'm going to expose this operation. There's an exit to the surface just yards away. I'll be a hero escaping from the Allies, bringing the great Papa Bear down. Your precious Colonel will be shot for the spy he is. If you're smart and lucky, your life will be spared, but you'll have to agree to my story of us both being kidnapped. Then we'll have lots of quality time together once I get back to the facility, where every night you'll be allowed to please me. However, if you get out of hand there, you'll learn Von Eisenberg has a preference for blonds, and it wouldn't be the first time we shared a woman on the same night. Only he likes it rough," François laughed as Tiger continued to struggle as he squeezed her exposed thigh leaving a mark. She screamed the best she could through the gag. His hand went to his belt to unbuckle it.

Suddenly Francois found himself seized from behind roughly, jerked around until he was face-to-face with a beyond enraged Hogan a split second before the Colonel's fist connected with his face. Francois staggered backward before landing on his back. Hogan, tempted to pummel the man into the ground, restrained himself as concern for Tiger took over; he knelt down beside the woman he loved, starting to remove the gag.

Just then, Hogan was tackled from behind by Francois and the two men fell to the ground with Francois landing on top of Hogan, his hands wrapped around the American's throat and blood trickling from his own nostrils and down the side of his face. His eyes were filled with a murderous fury as he tightened his grip around Hogan's throat. The American drew back a fist and punched Francois in one eye causing a yelp from the Frenchman as he released Hogan to cover his injured eye. Hogan used the opportunity to roll his body tossing Francois off of him.

Hogan immediately got to his feet and roughly seized the front of Francois's shirt, drew back his other fist and struck the man repeatedly splitting his lower lip. The final blow caused the Frenchman to stumble back and land on the ground near Tiger where he was breathing heavily. As Hogan reached for him again, Francois struck the Colonel on the side of his head with a piece of board he had managed to grip. Stunned, Hogan staggered and fell to his knees, blood running down the side of his head. He used one hand to maintain his balance. Dazed, the next thing Hogan knew he was being punched in the face by Francois and sent sprawling, but somehow managed to regain his feet as the Frenchman charged at him again.

Francois ducked as Hogan swung and he felt a whiff of air pass over his head. He then launched himself at the Colonel, and the two men went down with Francois on top of Hogan again; but the Colonel raised his leg and with his foot on Francois' chest, shoved the man off of him. Francois went sprawling, neither man noticing the Luger the Frenchman had tucked in the back of his belt, fall out. Hogan slowly got up and launched himself at the Frenchman who was sluggishly getting to his knees, but Francois caught the sudden movement out the corner of his eye, and was ready for it. As they fought, neither man noticed that one of them had kicked the Luger away where it was hidden from view. He embedded his fist in Hogan's abdomen knocking the wind out of him. Francois then reached behind him with a smirk on his face for the Luger but didn't feel it. He had intended to shoot his enemy and be done with him. He saw Hogan staggering to his feet. Needing a weapon, Francois raced to the other side of the room; Marie's knife would serve the same purpose, he smirked. Killing Marie's lover in front of her with her own knife appealed to him. He spun around and faced Hogan waving the knife with a maniacal expression on his bloody face.

"I'm going to show you what happens when a man sleeps with another man's wife," Francois hissed. He lunged at Hogan with the knife but the Colonel dodged out of the way and the blade just missed him. "Never took you for a man who appreciates whores. So tell me, Colonel, did you enjoy screwing my whore of a wife? Did you pass her around making sure all your men were serviced?"

Hogan knew Francois was taunting him, trying to distract him; but hearing the man talk about Tiger like he was caused Hogan to lose all his self-control and lunge at Francois who swiped at Hogan with the knife catching him on the arm above the elbow, slicing open not only his shirt sleeve, but also his arm. The blood began to flow freely down his arm and hand and drip onto the ground.

"My relationship with Tiger is none of your concern," Hogan managed, wishing he'd been wearing his jacket because it might have saved him the sliced arm.

Francois sneered. "Tiger, eh? She is nothing more than a mangy, old alley cat and that is all she ever was! But she is my mangy, old alley cat!" He lunged at Hogan again but the Colonel was much quicker this time and despite the pain in his arm, he grabbed Francois' arm holding the knife, and tried to wrestle it away from him. Neither noticed that Tiger had freed herself from her restraints, and shakily tried to sit up, stars still dancing in her eyes.

Francois violently shoved Hogan away with his shoulder sending the Colonel slamming into the dirt wall before collapsing to the ground unconscious. A very small stream of blood began to appear from under his head. Standing over Hogan and breathing hard, he wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Now, Colonel, you will find out that nobody tries to take what is mine!" Hearing movement behind him, he turned to see Tiger standing up.

"Leave him alone!" she yelled, taking a step closer to the men.

"I told you that you belonged to me and no other man will ever have you," François laughed manically. "Now where were we, before we were so rudely interrupted," he walked towards her. As he came in range, Tiger took everything she had kicking him in the balls, François went down holding his manhood. Unfortunately, she didn't make full contact and with the adrenaline rush he recovered too quickly, shoving her into the wall where she slid down it. "For that you get to watch him die by my hand." He walked over and kicked Hogan in the ribs, quite satisfied he was really unconscious. François then grabbed Hogan by an arm and drug his body towards the middle of the room.

Facing Tiger, François straddled Hogan's body, grabbed the knife with both hands, and raised it high preparing to drive the dagger through Hogan's heart. "This is what happens when you defy me."


	21. Chapter 21

Tiger slowly pushed her upper half up as her eyes took in the scene before her. As she tried to get to her feet, her hand touched something cold and hard. Looking down, she saw it was a Luger. With a shaky hand, she grabbed it. "I will not let you kill him," she said coldly.

"Don't play with things you can't use," Francois smirked at her; she would have to be taught a lesson for pointing a weapon at him. Gripping the knife in both hands again, he raised it but paused hearing the click of a safety being removed from the gun. Looking up at her, he saw his mangy, old alley cat leaning against the wall with his Luger pointed at his head, steadying it with both hands.

"I said get off of him."

"Lower the gun before you get hurt," he commanded glaring at her.

"I will not say it again. Put the knife down and leave him alone," Tiger's voice was dangerous, fury in her eyes.

"You don't have the guts to pull that trigger. Don't worry, we'll finish what he so rudely interrupted in a few moments," he goaded taking aim with the knife.

"I'm not the child you married," Tiger said as she squeezed the trigger on the luger. As the bullet impacted François's head, he realized his fatal mistake of underestimating Marie. He no longer had any control over her and it cost him his life. His body flew backwards half falling off of Hogan, and the other half laying across the Colonel's legs.

She let the gun drop to the ground making her way to Hogan, sinking to her knees she sat beside him caressing the side of his face. "Robert, wake up," her tears flowing freely as she continued to call his name in French, "Robert, Robert."

Seconds later, his men came running through the tunnel arriving with weapons drawn ready to defend against any intruder. They stopped short taking in the scene, hearts in their throats wondering if Hogan was alive, Tiger crying over him.

Kinch knelt down placing his fingers on Hogan's throat letting out a sigh of relief to find a pulse, "He's alive. Tiger, what happened?"

She didn't respond but kept caressing her mon amour's face with one hand, the other trying to hold the pieces of her torn sweater together. "Open your eyes, Robert. Please open your eyes."

Kinch took his jacket it off wrapping it around Tiger's shoulders, then lifting her tear stained face up towards him. "What happened?" he gently asked.

"I couldn't let him kill Robert," her voice was shaky, and she was obviously in shock.

Newkirk picked up the discarded knife and tore off a piece of François's shirt handing it to Kinch who wrapped it tightly around Hogan's arm steaming the blood flow. Newkirk and Olsen pulled François off the Colonel laying the body in the corner. Then they moved Hogan away from the pool of François's blood on the ground.

Kinch put his arms around Tiger moving her to a safe distance, "I…I warned him that I'd shoot," she murmured softly.

"You did good," Kinch helped her sit down as her knees started to buckle. He glanced over watching as Newkirk tried to bring the Colonel around. Men were starting to arrive from all over the tunnel system.

Suddenly behind them, they heard a loud thud. The large pool of blood, the back of François's head blown off from the impact of the bullet, and bits of brain matter scattered around the room was more than LeBeau could take. He passed out cold on the tunnel floor. Carter feeling more than a little queasy himself knelt beside his friend. "He'll be okay in a few minutes."

Someone yelled that they'd get Wilson, while someone else said they'd take care of the Germans in case the gunshot was heard. Kinch was grateful for the help. He turned his attention back to Tiger, "Did he?"

She didn't allow him to complete the question, "Non, Robert stopped him." She moved closer to Hogan continuing to caress his face. Kinch let out a sigh of relief. For something so vile to nearly happen in the tunnels was almost more than he could accept.

Wilson entered the tunnel, stunned at the sight. Obviously, François was beyond need of his help, LeBeau had fainted with no apparent injuries, Tiger was conscious, so for the moment he turned his full attention to Hogan. As he began his exam, Hogan moaned and his eyes fluttered open. "Hold still sir, you're going to be all right," he said in his most soothing medic voice.

"Tiger," Hogan gasped looking around as his eyes came in focus.

"I'm here," she gently touched the side of his face. "I'm all right," she replied to the look of concern from him.

"François?" he asked with anger in his voice.

"He's…," Wilson looked over at the body then turned back to his patient. "He's quite dead. How does your head feel?"

"Like a tank ran over me," Hogan tried to sit up but Wilson kept him down by putting a hand on his shoulder continuing his exam.

"You need stitches, but we'll do that in the infirmary," Wilson finally let him sit up slowly.

"I'm not going to the infirmary. Could never get that past Klink," he said then looked at Tiger's battered and bruised face anger flooding him once again. He reached out and took her hand, "How are you?"

"I'm all right," she repeated braver than she felt at the moment avoiding where François's body lay. Hogan looked over in that direction, running a hand over his face.

"We'll take care of the body, Gov'nor. No one will ever find it," Newkirk said watching his commander closely. "Just let Wilson take care of both of you."

"No, put the body somewhere it will be found, but not too close to camp. Hochstetter is expecting the body to show up, so we should oblige him, plus it will keep the suspicion off of us," Hogan ordered.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of it, sir. I know a good spot to dispose of it," Olsen answered.

"Let's get you two upstairs," Wilson helped Hogan stand up and gain his balance.

Tiger put her arm around Hogan both lending and receiving support from him at the same time as they made their way slowly to the hut. Carter making sure LeBeau didn't pass out again followed them with Wilson hovering between all four.

Kinch stayed behind with Newkirk, Olsen, and a few other men who had shown up after the gunshot was heard, staring at François's body. "I can't believe he tried to…to…rape Tiger," he punched the wall above the body. "Too bad the bastard can only die once!" Rage filled his eyes.

"I know what you mean mate," Newkirk put a hand on his friend's shoulder. He too was angry about what happened to Hogan and Tiger. "We'll take care of this. Go make sure the Gov'nor and Tiger have what they need."

"We have to make sure all the blood and body parts are cleaned up too. Don't want to smell the bastard for weeks down here," Kinch said barely controlling his urge to kick the shit out of the body.

"We'll have it all cleaned up before roll call," Murrell promised. "And if the Colonel needs anything, including a good cover story, let us know."

"Yeah, the Colonel isn't in any shape to come up with a story. I'll figure something out," Kinch agreed then walked back to the barracks. Climbing up the ladder, he noticed everyone was awake, and the door to Hogan's room closed.

"They're in there," Carter indicated the Colonel's room in anticipation of his question. He was sitting at the common table next to LeBeau with a cup of coffee in his hands.

"How are you feeling?" Kinch asked the Frenchman.

"Embarrassed," LeBeau's face had a tinge of red.

"It was a horrific scene, no need to feel bad," Kinch replied sitting down so he could watch Hogan's door.

"But I was the only one who passed out," LeBeau grumbled.

"That's because I was sitting next to you. If I'd stood for a few more seconds, I'd been on the ground next to you," Carter confessed.

"Are you all right? That was a lot for your first trip downstairs. Do you need to lie down?" LeBeau's concern for his friend overrode his own embarrassment.

"I'm all right," Carter lied running a hand through his hair looking very tired. "I want to make sure the Colonel and Tiger are okay. Why would François try something like that, especially knowing we were all downstairs?"

"Why any man would try something like that is beyond me," Kinch said clinching his jaw tightly.

"That's your answer, he wasn't a man. He was an animal. I'm glad Tiger took him out, but I would have preferred to beat him to death," LeBeau answered. The other men in the barracks chimed in with similar sentiments.

"You wouldn't have had the opportunity. I'd killed him with my bare hands, just like I expect the Colonel tried to do," Kinch answered. They all looked up as Wilson came out of the room closing the door behind him.

"They'll both be all right. For tonight, let them rest and give them their privacy," Wilson ordered sitting his bag on the table. "How are you two?"

"We're fine," Carter answered almost too quickly indicating himself and LeBeau, with pain showing on his face.

"That was too much activity for this point in your recovery. I want you to rest now and tomorrow have very little movement," Wilson ordered looking over both men with a trained eye.

"How severe are the Colonel's and Tiger's injuries?" Kinch asked, obviously worried with anger seething just below the surface.

"The Colonel has a concussion. I sewed up the cuts on his head and arm, both should heal without problems as long as an infection doesn't set in. I'll keep an eye out for that. Tiger is in shock but most of her physical injuries are mainly bruises and abrasions. She will need something to wear in the morning," Wilson answered.

"I'll take care of that," LeBeau promised.

"My concern is roll call in the morning. Although I know the Colonel will give it a valiant effort, he may not be able to stand that long plus handle Klink," Wilson sighed heavily.

Kinch took a deep breath to focus his thoughts. "Gentlemen, I have an idea, but it'll take two volunteers. Any takers?" Every hand in the barracks was raised. Kinch smiled at the loyalty and dedication the men had, even without knowing the plan. "This is what we're going to do."


	22. Chapter 22

Schultz walked through the line counting men, coming to a dead stop when he saw Colonel Hogan completely losing his count. "Wh…what happened to you?"

"Reeeeepppporrtttt," Klink called coming out of his office not paying attention to the prisoners. "Report!" he repeated when Schultz didn't answer.

"All…all present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant," Schultz forced himself to turn towards his commanding officer. Hogan didn't have a chance to answer him.

"Very good. Now prisoners, I have something I want to tell you about," Klink started as he paced in front of the men. "I know from time to time some of you become wire happy and try an escape…" his voice trailed off as he stood in front of Colonel Hogan, his monocle nearly falling out of his eye. "What happened to you? I know Major Hochstetter hasn't been here."

"Good morning Kommandant, how are you today?" Hogan asked cheerfully.

"Hoooogaaaan!"

"Yes, sir?"

"What happened to your face?" Klink asked, studying the black eye, cut lip, and swollen jaw.

"Oh that. Well you see I learned a valuable lesson last night," Hogan answered matter-of-factly.

"To duck? Tell me what happened," Klink was getting impatient.

"Well that too. There's this pretty blond I've been seeing and her husband found out. Needless to say, he didn't take it very well," Hogan shrugged his shoulders.

"My secretary isn't married and there have been no other blonds in camp. Tell me what really happened," Klink ordered.

"I fell out of bed?" Hogan tried with the best smile he could muster trying not to grimace.

"Colonel Hogan, you will tell me exactly what happened or you'll spend a week in the cooler," Klink threatened. For a moment, he thought Hogan was going to take the cooler time.

"Excuse us, sir." Klink turned to see Baker and Reynolds standing next to him looking pensive. "It was our fault, sir."

"Exactly what was your fault?" Klink demanded.

"We got in a disagreement last night about a woman and it came to blows. The Colonel tried to intervene and that's when it happened," Baker answered. Reynolds was looking down with his hands clasped obviously distressed over the situation.

"Sir, you…," Hogan started but Klink cut him off.

"Continue with your story," he demanded.

"As I said, it came to blows. What we didn't realize was that the Colonel had stepped in between us, and we weren't hitting each other. We're really sorry, sir. We didn't mean for anyone to get hurt, especially the Colonel," Baker said dutifully apologetic.

"You beat up your commanding officer?" Klink was incensed. "You'll both spend a week in the cooler. I will not tolerate fighting in this camp! Schultz, take them away!"

"Kommandant," Hogan started getting his attention. "Since I was the one injured, might I make a suggestion on their punishment?"

"They have to be punished," Klink stated firmly.

"Yes, sir, I agree. But perhaps it would be a greater punishment to make them stay in the hut instead of spending time in the cooler. Although cooler time is definitely a deterrent, it takes them away from seeing the consequences of their actions. In a week's time, my face will be well on the way to healing. But if they're confined to the barracks, they'll have to face me each day and be reminded of their stupidity. Plus I can come up with extra duties for them to perform," Hogan requested.

Klink thought about it before answering looking between the three men. "You have a good point. Very well, they're confined to the barracks for a week. Plus recreation hall privileges revoked for another ten days."

"Sir, don't you think that's going overboard?" Hogan asked.

"No, I do not. Schultz, see to it they're confined to the barracks and on any work details appropriate. Make sure the medic sees Hogan and dismiss your men," Klink ordered leaving to go back to his office. This was going to cause him extra paperwork today.

"Shame on you two for fighting," Schultz scolded them like his kids ushering the men inside the barracks not believing for a moment the storyline. He turned to Newkirk, whom was the last man standing outside. "Tiger is married?"

"Not anymore," Newkirk answered with a smirk

"Oh, I know nothing. Nothing!" Schultz quickly left the area afraid of actually finding out what really happened.

Inside the barracks, Hogan leaned against a bunk bed. "Thank you fellas, I owe you one."

"No sir, you don't. We were happy to do it. We would have taken the cooler time too," Baker answered. Reynolds agreed with him.

"I know, but this works out better. Kinch, that was smart thinking. LeBeau, let us know when breakfast is ready. I'll be in my quarters if anyone needs me," Hogan said then closed the door behind him.

"What is for breakfast?" Carter asked sitting up in his bunk.

"The Gov'nor is going to need something soft with that jaw," Newkirk said lighting up a cigarette.

"If someone will go down to the storeroom and bring up the blueberries and sugar, I'll make pancakes with blueberry syrup," LeBeau offered. Olsen and Garlotti both volunteered disappearing down the ladder nearly racing each other.

"Pancakes are thick not thin like crepes," Kinch reminded him.

"Oui, I know, it's uncivilized, but mon Colonel likes them. I'll do it for him," LeBeau exaggerated rolling his eyes.

"While you're making pancakes, I'll go let the underground know that François won't be making the trip," Kinch said climbing downstairs.

"Where did you hide the body?" Carter asked.

"Not far from the road about two miles away at the fork that goes out to the SS facility. With any luck, they'll find him today. We didn't make it difficult," Newkirk answered. "How are you feeling today?"

"A little sore, but nothing like the Colonel is feeling," Carter took a cup of coffee LeBeau handed him.

* * *

><p>Tiger had changed into the clothes LeBeau had provided and was sitting on the lower bunk with her knees drawn up against her. Hogan sat down near her reaching out to touch her hand. She flinched and drew her knees closer to her chest. Hogan's heart sank as he gave her a little more space; his anger at François hadn't subsided. But he could tell something was eating at her, and had a pretty good idea what.<p>

"Talk to me," he asked gently prodding her. "Please. Don't shut me out."

"Despite what I said, I never intended to kill him," she said, softly not looking at him.

"No one thought you did. Can you tell me what happened?" The bruises on her face made him wince.

"I found him in the back, where I think he was on his way to the ladder to go up in the compound. He said he was going to expose the entire operation," she shifted slightly now looking up at him. "I just wanted to have my say then I was going to leave because I thought he'd be easier to handle if I wasn't around. He…just…overpowered me," a single tear escaped from her eye.

"I promised to protect you from him, and I failed. I'm sorry."

"NON! Don't you ever think that. You saved me," she looked him directly in the eyes, fire burning in hers.

"You saved me too," Hogan smiled gently at her.

"Oui. I tried to get him away from you. At one point, I kicked his manhood, but I must not have made the right impact. He got up too fast."

Hogan blinked hard, thinking he'd never want an angry Tiger kicking at his manhood. "I'm sure that he felt something."

"More anger. He kicked your ribs and pulled you out in the room. I was so scared; you didn't look like you were breathing. Then he tried to stab you. I found the gun and warned him, several times, but he wouldn't listen. I couldn't let him kill you," Tiger said taking a deep breath.

"I'm grateful," he smiled at her. "Was the gun yours?"

"Non, I thought it was yours and that you dropped in the fight."

"I didn't have a weapon. He must have stolen it out of the weapons locker." Hogan knew they'd need to do something about that weapons locker when they had guests in the tunnel. It had to remain easily accessible in case they were threatened and needed access, buts guests didn't need access to it. "How do you feel about his death?" he asked after a few minutes.

"I'm not sorry he's dead, just how it happened," Tiger looked down again. She had hated her husband, but never really wished him dead. Although she'd fantasized about how to kill him many times, she would have never killed him in cold blood. But when she thought about it; _really_ thought about it, what choice did Francois really give her? To not kill him would have resulted in the death of Robert, her amour, and that she couldn't let happen. François had caused her so much pain that she wanted to strike back at him, making him realize what a fool he'd been. She wanted to see him pay for his crimes publicly, because he so craved public admiration. Once she found out that he was a collaborator, she couldn't think of a better way to get back at him than exposing him as a fraud. He would feel the humiliation that he put her through over the years. Degradation and shame described their life together and it took her a long time to realize she really wasn't the human being he claimed she was. Slowly she became her own person and no one would ever pull her back down into the mire. François had taken so much from her and she was determined not to lose anything or anyone else. With concerned eyes, she looked up at Hogan, "How do you think London will handle this?"

"That I'm not sure, but I'll make them understand it was in self-defense," Hogan was worried about that himself. What if London wanted Tiger prosecuted?


	23. Chapter 23

It was well after lights out, when Hogan hung up the headset of the radio blowing out a deep breath. His debriefing with General Butler had been rough, but he was able to bring the General around to his way of thinking. His commander hadn't been happy about the news of François's death, but was grateful for the plans to the rockets. Painting François as a collaborator, intent upon exposing the operation was the final nail in the miserable Frenchman's proverbial coffin. His mind wandered back over the incidents of the last two weeks, and how close they came to losing Carter, Tiger, and him. Hogan would never forgive François for those actions. He reached up with his left hand gently massaging the area around his split lip that was beginning to itch.

He didn't blame Tiger for anything that had happened; she was just as much in the dark as they had been. Without her sleuthing, they wouldn't have known the extent of the danger that lurked around her husband. _Her husband._ That still didn't set well with Hogan. His own internal set of morals and beliefs continued to rage a war over their relationship, and he wondered if he could continue in whatever it was, they were. When he looked at her, his heart was filled with conflicting emotions, guilt, pride, anger, confusion, but it always settled on one very strong emotion, love. There was no denying that he loved her like no one else in the world. His heart broke over what he'd learned of her married life. No woman deserved to be treated as she was. He stood then began pacing the length of the emergency tunnel. Tiger was...a survivor. He couldn't think of her as a victim, she'd overcome tremendous odds and made herself strong. That took courage and determination only a fighter could muster. He would settle the question of the marriage not being over when they started a relationship, but it would take some time and soul searching. Time was something he had plenty of until the war was over. He climbed the ladder to the hut, then hit the side of the bunk bed to lower the cover hiding the entrance.

"How did it go, sir?" Olsen asked standing near his bunk.

"They weren't happy, but finally understood the situation," Hogan said taking a seat at the common table. LeBeau handed him a cup of coffee.

"Will there be any consequences for Tiger?" Kinch asked sitting across from Hogan, half holding his breath in worry. He'd spent many hours today pounding his punching bag working out his anger with the traitor.

"No, they understand it was in self-defense. And how close the operation came to being exposed," Hogan answered taking a drink of his coffee. He winced when the hot liquid made contact with his split lip. Kinch let out an audible sigh of relief.

"Ol' London needs to be more careful with who they send us. That be twice now they've put the operation at risk with shoddy intel," Newkirk said hitting his hand on the table.*

"There's a war on, some risk is to be expected," Hogan gave him a look that made the Englander back down. "We have to be careful and keep our guard up. Speaking of which, there's a few things we need to change."

"Like what sir?" Carter asked sitting up in his bunk.

"Vetting new guards for one," Hogan watched the young man. "We let not one, but two Gestapo agents slip through our security net, and they got very close to shutting us down with a firing squad. We've become too complacent believing that we could tame any German guard assigned here. All new guards will go through a long process before they're cleared. Over the next week, I want everyone to come up with something new we can use to test the guards. Plus we're going to start tossing the guards' barracks on a more regular basis, not just the new guards, but everyone's rooms. Who knows what all we've missed. I believe that if we'd looked through the Gestapo brothers' room more than once we would have found them out."

"That's going to be risky, getting caught going into the guards' barracks would have bad consequences," Newkirk shook his head.

"What if we're in there for a reason like making repairs or something?" LeBeau asked.

"That's a good idea, I'm sure we can come up with something," Kinch said thinking through the possibilities.

"You two work on that," Hogan ordered.

"What else do we need to do, sir?" Olsen asked.

"François took a weapon from our arsenal,and we never knew. That can't happen again. The weapons locker needs to be secured in such a way that we have easy access but any guests don't. I want a lock put on it, and a schedule for checking it when we have guests. Olsen and Carter, that's your assignment." Hogan ordered looking at both men.

"Yes, sir, we'll take care of it," Carter answered.

"How are you feeling, Andre?" LeBeau asked having been a mother hen all day.

"Really good. Wilson said that I should start going out to roll call in the morning," he replied grinning.

"That's good to hear," Hogan had a smile on his face.

"I don't know about roll call, I'd avoid that as long as possible," Newkirk teased.

"I think I have. Klink is getting impatient with me. Have we heard yet if they found the body?" Carter asked.

"Yes, Klink received a phone call this afternoon asking if he'd heard anything about a shooting. Hochstetter sounded pleased that his men had found the body. He didn't have anyone in custody for the killing of Waechter, but was confident he would soon," Kinch said turning towards Carter.

"Bloody good luck with that. At least it will keep him busy and away from the underground for a while," Newkirk said.

"Still we should be careful for a while. They're not going to let this go easy and if he thinks someone is hiding in the woods, they'll be full of Gestapo," Hogan warned. "Gentlemen, unless there's anything else, I'm going to bed." He heard goodnight from everyone in the barracks as he closed the door, explaining the good news to Tiger.

* * *

><p>Two days later, everyone was gathered around the dog pen entrance in the tunnel. "Are you sure you have to leave so soon, luv?" Newkirk asked giving Tiger a hug.<p>

"Oui. It's time I get back to my people. There's still much to do," Tiger replied giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"We'll miss you," Carter said hugging her goodbye.

"You're always welcomed here," Kinch said, sad to see her leave.

"Oui, always," LeBeau kissed her on both checks, "Be safe."

"I will, don't worry," she replied.

"Fellas, would you give us a moment," Hogan asked standing behind Tiger. His men said goodbye once more then left to go upstairs to facilitate her exit into Schnitzer's truck.

Tiger turned wrapping her arms around Hogan's waist. "You will be careful?"

"I promise," he placed a kiss on the top of her head. When will I see you again?" he asked with a lump forming in his throat.

"I need time," she looked up at him with mist in her eyes. She needed to reconcile in her own soul killing François.

"I know and I'm not pushing. Take all the time you need, just know that I'll be here waiting for you," he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. The doghouse rose signaling it was time for her to leave.

"Merci, I know," she said looking into his eyes. Then she reached down picking up her backpack, as Hogan helped her climb up the ladder.

When the doghouse closed, he ran a hand over his face trying not to shudder, wondering if he'd ever see her again. He didn't know how many more daggers through his heart he could handle; slowly he started walking back towards the hut.

Tiger climbed into the back of the truck with the dogs. As the truck pulled away from the front gates, she stole one last look wondering if after everything that had happened, if she'd ever be able to stomach going back into the tunnels of Stalag 13. She honestly didn't know when, or if, she'd ever see Hogan again. Was this goodbye forever?

~Finish~

* * *

><p>* Episode – How To Catch A Papa Bear<p> 


End file.
